Doubt That the Stars Are Fire
by Celtic Cat
Summary: Something a little different featuring the bestlooking Nietzschean to wear bone spurs. Last chapter up! Please R and R!
1. The Foundling

Doubt That the Stars Are Fire

The characters from Andromeda do not belong to me, just Meaghan and a few bit players.

Bekka deftly turned the ship the few degrees necessary to line it up with the drifting object.

"Got it, Rommie?" asked Dylan, barely restraining his curiosity over what it could be.

"Just now in sensor range, sir," the avatar replied. "It appears to be a single person stasis unit. And an antique at that." When Dylan shot a querying look her way, she added, "it predates..., us."

"That old." Bekka whistled, impressed. "Whaddaya, say, Dylan? Whoever is in there can't possibly still be alive." She paused as the AI's digits went dancing over her control panel. "Can they?"

"Sending out drones to retrieve the pod," Andromeda reported.

Dylan looked at Bekka. "Guess we're about to find out."

&&&&&&&

Trance met them in the docking bay as the drones brought the pod in. After the usual procedures, decontam, etc. Harper came running up.

"Nice you could join us, Mr. Harper," Dylan remarked dryly.

Harper had the grace to look a little shamefaced, but nothing could keep the irrepressible Irishman down for long. "You really think there could be someone alive in there, boss?"

"Sensors showed the unit to be functioning normally," Rommie broke in, "but I couldn't penetrate any further into the hull to check for life signs."

"Maybe if you could stop talking about it and open it up, Harper," Dylan sighed. "Then we could find out."

"No need to worry," quipped Seamus, wriggling his fingers. "The Harper is on the job."

For several tense minutes Harper peeked and prodded, pushed buttons and, it must be admitted, swore. Finally he turned to face the rest. "No can do, boss man, not in the docking bay. We need to get this baby up to my workshop. I'm amazed anything is functioning considering how many hits from floating debris that it's taken. Anyway, the controls are frozen solid. I'm gonna need a can opener to get in there."

Dylan exchanged a glance with Bekka. "Why can't it ever be easy?" he queried of no on in particular.

&&&&&&&

Trance hovered over Harper and Rommie while they worked, even though everyone else had gone elsewhere. Something told her there was a living person in the pod, one who would need medical attention.

Rommie finished the adjustments on Harper's jury-rigged back-up control panel. "All set, Harper."

"Okay, Rom doll." Harper paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Prepare to be amazed."

Rommie and Trance sighed in perfect unison.

Harper hit a series of buttons on a remote module. "Presto!" he exclaimed, beaming with self-congratulation.

Nothing happened.

Harper set the remote down. "What in the...," he began, leaning over the pod. Then, the lid to the box popped open so abruptly it clipped him on the chin.

Trance found out that her suspicions had been right.

&&&&&&

Six months later:

Meaghan hurried to the docking bay, fearing she was going to be late. If there was anything she didn't want to do, it was let Dylan down. Since she'd woken with no memories at all, not even her name, there was really nothing she could contribute to the running of the ship, and it fretted her, not being able to earn her keep. So, Dylan had created things for her to do, mostly to do with crew morale, and she seemed to be doing all right and was proving to have a knack for the job.

This was something else again, though. A big secret diplomatic meeting, at a classified location, and the Andromeda had been pressed into service as a VIP taxi for dozens of ambassadors. During the trip, however, they had to be wined and dined and entertained. And Dylan had put Meaghan completely in charge of the arrangements.

She arrived in the docking bay simultaneously with the latest shuttle. Good, she had a few moments to compose herself before the guest or guests would be alighting.

The door of the shuttle began to swing open when Bekka joined her.

"Hi, Bekka," Meaghan smiled at her. "I thought you were allergic to high-ranking officials."

"And then there are some that bear watching," replied the XO grimly. Then, as a very dapper-looking blond man emerged from the shuttle, she added, "and he's one of them."

Meaghan looked, her eyes wide. "I'll say he does, he's gorgeous! Who is he, Bekka?"

"Down girl," Bekka cautioned. "He's married, and a Nietzschean."

"Out of my league anyway," Meaghan remarked sadly. "Still, no harm in looking. And since you already know him, you can perform the introductions."

The man approached, lithe and graceful as a cat. "I would have thought the captain himself would be here to greet me." Then he smiled charmingly. "But since he saw fit to delegate the honor to such lovely ladies, I'll forgive him the lapse."

Bekka sighed, and rolled her eyes, and Meaghan nudged her.

"What?" Bekka jumped, then realization hit. "Oh. Charlemagne, this is Meaghan, affectionately known as 'mom.' Mom, this is Archduke Charlemagne Bolivar of the Sabra-Jaguar Pride."

"A pleasure, Miss Meaghan," the Nietzschean said suavely, bending to kiss her hand.

Meaghan's face turned nearly as red as her hair. "The pleasure's all mine, your grace," she murmured shyly, dropping a graceful curtsey.

"What exquisite manners," Charlemagne observed, watching the blush go from rose to crimson.

Bekka started to make a rude sound, but the frosty glances aimed at her from both of her companions cut her off.

"May we escort you to your quarters, your grace?" Meaghan suggested.

"I am entirely at your disposal." The archduke made a flourishing bow.

Just as Bekka was starting to wonder exactly how much of this she could take before she got sick, the hologram of Andromeda appeared.

"Bekka, you're needed on the bridge," the AI informed her, then disappeared.

"Well, folks, sorry I can't stay, but duty calls." Bekka made a hasty escape.

Charlemagne watched Bekka's retreat with mixed feelings. He admired Bekka, even liked her, but she did lack a certain.., polish. He turned to his remaining escort. "Shall we?" he suggested, offering her his arm.

"Thank you," Meaghan mumbled, feeling the blush start to burn again. She felt like a complete idiot. But she couldn't think of anything to say.

For himself, Charlemagne was enchanted with the Andromeda's newest crew member. She was totally unlike anyone he'd ever met. And not entirely unattractive, either. Fiery red hair cascaded in waves nearly to her waist. The fairness of her complexion showed off the light dusting of freckles across her nose. Eyes of emerald green. Figure, neat, compact but not quite small enough to be called petite.

"How did you come to be on board the Andromeda?" he inquired.

"They found me floating in space," Meaghan answered. Then seeing the incredulity on his face, she elaborated. "In a stasis pod. Rommie said I was in it for at least seven hundred years."

"Really?" He'd just been making conversation, but now Charlemagne was intrigued. "Why were you in stasis?"

"I don't know," she replied in a small voice. "I come up with all sorts of random facts and sayings like they're all just sitting there in my head waiting for the right moment. But I don't know anything about me. I can't remember one single thing prior to six months ago when they woke me up."

"Maybe it will come back on its own," Charlemagne ventured. "When you least expect it."

"I've been hearing that practically every day for the past few months," Meaghan responded sourly. "I don't think I'm supposed to remember."

"You think someone did this to you on purpose?" he queried.

She shrugged. "Just a fancy of mine, really. I doubt if I'll ever know one way or the other."

"It bothers you though, doesn't it?" Charlemagne probed.

"Some days more than others, your grace." She tried lightening the tone, but failed utterly. "Could you imagine not having any idea who you are, where you're from, or if you have any family anywhere?"

He suppressed a shudder. To a Nietzschean, where he came from and who his family was, was everything. "It must be awful."

"Moderately awful." She turned and suddenly smiled at him. "But the crew of the Andromeda have been simply wonderful to me. As far as I'm concerned, they're my family now."

As they rounded a turn, a tousle-headed figure came into view, then abruptly turned and went the other direction.

"Beg your pardon, your grace," Meaghan apologized. "Seamus! I saw you. Don't make me chase you down."

Harper reluctantly re-appeared, looking a little apprehensive as the foundling approached him, hands clasped behind her back.

Charlemagne lounged against the wall, watching the tableau with amusement.

"Uh, hi Mom, what can I do for you?" Harper didn't seem nearly as confident as usual.

"The modifications you faithfully promised to make to the observation deck three weeks ago," Meaghan said sweetly. "They are done, I presume?"

"Well, ah, gee Mom," Harper stuttered. "Stuff came up and, well..,"

"I need them done by this evening, Seamus," she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. "If you started right now, could you have it done by then?"

Charlemagne stopped leaning and stood up to get a better view. He could have sworn he saw the blood drain away from the cocky little Irishman's face.

"Well, maybe, yeah," Harper stammered. "If I had a little help."

"Then get it," she cooed. "And get the job done like you told me you would, alright?"

"Okay, sure Mom." Harper actually seemed to have broken out in a sweat.

"Oh, and one last thing, Seamus," Meaghan added.

"What?" Harper asked nervously.

"How fast can you run?"

Harper disappeared like a ship going into slip-stream.

Meaghan turned back to Charlemagne. "I'm terribly sorry, your grace, but that was the first time in the last three days I've been able to lay my hands on Mr. Harper. I suspect that he's been hiding from me."

The Nietzschean smiled down at her as they resumed their progress down the corridor. "No apology necessary," he assured her. "I was quite enjoying the show, actually. Was I imagining things, or is Mr. Harper afraid of you?"

"Maybe a little." Meaghan's face clouded over. "I hope he knows I wouldn't really hurt him, not like..," her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes briefly, as though suppressing an unpleasant memory.

"Who did you hurt?" he inquired. He found it difficult to imagine this gentle creature harming anyone.

"I'd rather not talk about it, your grace, if you don't mind." She closed the subject and opened another. "We're almost there."

They passed a door with a new sign on it that read "Morale Officer."

"That's new," Charlemagne observed.

"My office," Meaghan informed him shyly. "Captain Hunt insisted. My quarters are right behind it, it makes it easier for the crew to get hold of me."

"What exactly does a morale officer do?" It was something you'd never see on a Nietzschean ship.

She smiled and showed him her dimples. "Mostly, I just listen to people. That's all they really need most of the time. Just someone to unload on, then they can get on with things. Here are your quarters, your grace. You'll find an itinerary on the bedside table."

"Thank you, Meaghan," he said softly, and kissed her hand again, then watched the flourish of her long skirt as she hurried away, blushing again.

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne desultorily glanced over the itinerary his charming guide had mentioned. Nothing going on till a reception this evening, hours away.

He glanced around the room itself. Just about adequate which meant it was probably the best Andromeda had to offer. What to do to fill the idle hours. For some reason his mind kept swerving back to Meaghan of the sparkling eyes and flaming tresses. Now stop that, he thought, she's human. Even if she were Nietzschean, with the precarious political balance created by his and Elsbeth's union, a second wife would need to be sanctioned by quite a few sources. Besides, he wasn't really looking for another wife just yet, Elsbeth was handful enough. If only she would stop being the warrior princess and settle down and produce him some more heirs.

Charlemagne found that he'd been pacing the room like a caged animal. He needed something to occupy him. Then, inspiration struck, and he left the room and headed for the observation deck.

Harper sweated and cussed, trying to re-route the lighting in the observation deck. He really did feel kind of bad he'd put it off so long. He started groping around for his soldering iron without looking down. "Now where the hell...," he muttered, when suddenly, the tool was placed in his hand. "Thanks," he said to his unseen benefactor.

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Harper," a cultured voice answered him. "Are you able to talk and work at the same time, or do you find it distracting? I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"Go ahead," Seamus muttered somewhat less than graciously. He really didn't like Nietzscheans, but Dylan would get all hot under the collar if he didn't make nice.

"What did you see Meaghan do to put the fear of her up your back like that?" Charlemagne asked bluntly.

"She didn't tell you?" Harper was amazed. "If it was me, I'd be bragging."

"She doesn't strike me as the bragging type," the archduke observed. "What happened?"

"Well," Seamus began his narrative, "About a month ago, Dylan took us, me and Mom, on a little planetside r and r trip. No big deal, safe place, Mom's first time off the ship. We were taking a tour of some scenic caverns, when there was a fresh cave-in. It trapped the three of us along with some cocky, punk Nietzschean officer..," He lost the thread as he realized who he was talking to. "Sorry, no offense meant."

"None taken," Charlemagne replied, shedding his suit jacket, folding it neatly and joining in the repair work. "Do go on."

Harper's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the (as far as he was concerned), foppish Nietzschean doing manual labor. Oh well, anything to get the job done.

"Where was I? Oh yeah, there we were, four of us trapped. Dylan was kind of out of commission, a rock hit him on the head and knocked him cold. Now Mom and me figured, well known tourist sight, lots of other people in the tour, help will be coming along soon, so sit tight, right? Not the Nietzschean. He's all set to start digging, and at the bottom of the rock pile yet. I try reasoning with him, no dice. I couldn't think of a way to threaten him, he was at least twice my size. But we had to do something, or this moron is going to get us all killed."

The Nietzschean's voice sounded strained, and slightly embarrassed. "Anyone I could possibly know?"

"Doubt it." Harper's voice was muffled, as he stuck his head under the console, "I think he was from one of those minor league prides from the outer reaches of nowhere, can't recall which one now. Anyway, Mom steps up on a rock, so she's nearly eye-level with him, puts her hands on his shoulders and says, ever so sweetly, that he can either do things our way, or he can lose some teeth and do it our way anyway. She was nice enough to recommend the first way as being a whole lot less painful. Needless to say, he just laughed at her, so she doubles up her fist and takes a swing at the guy. And throws a punch that my dear, departed granny could have blocked. But see, smart-boy here is only watching her hands, bad mistake, I thought Nietzscheans were more suspicious than that. So, no more trouble out of him after that, he just laid there on the ground, moaning and holding himself until help arrived. I understand that he may never father children."

Charlemagne snorted in disgust. "If news of his behavior got out, he wouldn't have fathered any children anyway. No Nietzschean woman would think of mating with so obviously inferior a specimen. But do you honestly think Meaghan would do that to you? She regards the crew of Andromeda as her family."

"I guess not, not really." Seamus sounded a little sheepish. "But if you had seen the look in her eyes.., let's just say I'm a cautious sort of guy and leave it at that."

"Not the sort of injury a man is willing to risk?" suggested the Nietzschean.

"Exactly," Harper agreed.

"Anything else to be done?" Charlemagne inquired. "We seem to be finished here."

"That's everything," the engineer confirmed. "Hey, thanks a lot, you saved me a lot of time just keeping me from having to go back and forth." Harper started to hold out his hand, then realized how dirty it was and hesitated. Then he noticed that Charlemagne's hand was just as dirty as his and reconsidered.

Charlemagne clasped Seamus' hand, gingerly picked up his jacket and went back to his quarters.

&&&&&&&

Seamus was just picking up the last of his tools when Meaghan entered. "Hi Mom, all done and ready to go."

"Already?" She was amazed, she knew Harper was good, but he had given her to understand that it would take considerably longer.

"Yeah, you'll never believe it," Harper said, picking up his tool kit. "Charlemagne gave me a hand with it, cut down on my travel time from panel to panel. The guy's a lot handier than he looks."

"The archduke of the Sabra-Jaguar pride helped you?" Meaghan sounded like she didn't know whether to be impressed or appalled. "I wonder why?"

"Oh, he wanted to hear about how you took out that hot-shot Nietzschean officer about a month ago," Harper mentioned off-handedly. "I guess, he just started working along to fill the time. See ya, Mom. Let me know if you need anything else." And he left.

Meaghan watched Harper's retreating back while she mulled over the revelation. She really wasn't sure how to react to it. Finally, she shrugged and got on with the finishing touches in the decorations.

&&&&&&&

The alterations in the lighting served to subtly section off the large area into three smaller spaces. One section set with buffet tables and comfortable seating was for (obviously), eating and chatting. Then another area was set up for those who chose to play games, cards, chess and of course, Dylan's beloved go.

The largest section was to serve as a dance floor. It was currently empty. Meaghan looked at it in despair and frustration. She'd done a ton of homework, and most of their delegates had some form of dancing in their cultural background, it had seemed like a really good idea. She even had Andromeda play a wide variety of music, to try to cater to everyone's tastes. She was on the verge of tears when Dylan approached.

"Smile, Mom," he admonished gently, without disturbing the pleasant expression on his own face. "What's the problem?"

"What's the problem?" she repeated incredulously. "Look, no one's dancing. All that research I did I thought it would go over well, but.., what?" Her voice rose an octave on the last word as Dylan swept her onto the dance floor for an energetic waltz.

"Maybe," Dylan suggested, "they just need a little push in the right direction."

It did seem that Dylan was right, slowly but surely the dance floor was filling up. By the time their dance was finished there were over a dozen couples on the floor.

"Of course now that we've broken the ice," the Captain reminded her, "you know what comes next."

"Duty dances." Meaghan grinned at him. "Thank you, Dylan."

The next two hours passed with excruciating slowness. Many of her partners had been enthusiastic enough (although she didn't actually go airborne as she had when a much taller Dylan had swept her through some of the turns), but there seemed to be a distinct lack in the coordination department. Meaghan felt sure that half of her toes must be broken. She had just about decided to make the rounds of the other areas to see how things were going, and spare herself further assaults to her feet when she turned and nearly walked right into Charlemagne Bolivar.

"I thought I'd better hurry and claim my dance before you made your escape." He grinned at her, guiding her back onto the floor.

The music slowed and softened and Meaghan became acutely aware of Charlemagne's hand in the small of her back. "How did you know?" she inquired a little breathlessly.

"Know what?" he teased gently. "That you were leaving? You were beginning to acquire the fight or flight look in your demeanor, and since fighting is out of the question, I assumed that you were about to leave. Feet hurt?" He twirled her away from him, and when he pulled her back into his arms, some of the distance between them seemed to have disappeared.

"Hurt?" Meaghan smiled back at him. "I was seriously considering never dancing again for the rest of my life. I'm glad you caught me before I took my final non-dancing vows, your grace, you're an excellent dancer."

"It helps to have a good partner," Charlemagne countered smoothly. "Has there been anyone since Dylan that hasn't stepped on your feet?"

"The one that knocked me over on my backside," she answered with grim humor. "I hope he's considering taking non-dancing vows."

"I must have missed that one," her partner admitted. "Who was the clumsy oaf?"

"I didn't catch the name," Meaghan mused. "I just remember that he wasn't too bad looking if you like the over-muscled type, and that he seemed terribly impressed with himself."

"The last part could describe over half the males here," Charlemagne responded. "Including yours truly, if the truth were known. Nothing wrong with a little self-confidence, is there?"

"As long as it's not taken to extremes," she replied. "I got the distinct impression that he feels he's never in the wrong. Even me landing on the floor somehow became my fault."

"The man must be an idiot," Charlemagne muttered.

"I got that impression too," she admitted. "But I just have to make nice for a few days, then, with luck, I'll never see him again. It may be a little petty of me, but I'd really rather he be someone else's problem."

The music ended, and the next tune was one of the swing tunes from Seamus' collection. Then Harper himself approached them.

"Hey, Charlemagne, could you give someone else a chance at the best dancer in the room?"

"I wouldn't dream of monopolizing the lady's talents." The Nietzschean gave way to Harper and disappeared into the crowd.

The energetic dancing that went with Harper's music of choice at least left no time or breath for conversation, and when her dance with Seamus was over, Meaghan did leave the dance floor, made a quick round through the rest of the room, then departed to collapse into her bed for a troubled nights sleep.


	2. New Situations

Meaghan was hurrying down a corridor when she bumped into Trance.

"Mom, we need to talk," Trance said, quickening her pace to keep up with the bustling red-head.

"I've got a million things to do, Trance," Meaghan answered. "Can you walk and talk, or better yet, run and talk at the same time?"

"You need to come to medical," the enigmatic alien told her. "You're overdue for a check-up and some necessary immunizations."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Meaghan assured her. "I'm perfectly healthy."

"And I'd like to keep it that way," Trance informed her. "You need those immunizations."

"I'm very sorry, Trance, but I'm really very busy right now," she apologized. "What with catering to all those planetary officials. I promise that I will come to medical as soon as all the furor has died down, but I just can't come now. Surely everything can wait one more week."

Trance's brow furrowed. "Well, I suppose one week won't hurt, but if you're not there, I'll see that Dylan makes it an order."

"I promise, I promise," vowed Meaghan, scurrying off.

&&&&&&

Meaghan stepped into Dylan's office. "Here's the seating arrangement for the grand banquet tonight, Dylan. I thought you might want to give it the once over to see that I haven't made any outrageous social gaffes."

Dylan smiled. "The day you commit a breach of etiquette, Mom, I resign. Even Charlemagne was remarking on your manners last night."

"Was he?" she murmured, handing Dylan her seating list. "A curious man."

"Hmm?" The captain was lost in his perusal of the document.

"Oh, nothing," Meaghan replied. "Do the arrangements meet with your approval?"

"Not quite," Dylan said. "You have me at the head of the table and Bekka at the foot."

"And that's wrong?" she queried.

"Bekka is staying on the bridge tonight," Hunt stated. "A ranking officer on the bridge in case of an emergency, and I don't trust Bekka not to commit any 'social gaffes.' And besides, I don't see your name on here either, so you take Bekka's place."

"I thought I'd just stay in the background and make sure things run smoothly," Meaghan offered sheepishly.

"Think again," Dylan said. "I want you there, and if I have to, I'll even make it an order."

"Was there anything else, sir?" she said softly.

The captain looked at her crestfallen face and relented slightly. "It will be all right, Mom. You know the drill. Be there, look pretty and be pleasant no matter how much it hurts."

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne was touring the ship out of sheer boredom. He was just now taking in the remodeled bridge. Bekka was in command, but had little to do, perhaps he could engage her in conversation.

Before he could approach her, she spoke to the AI. "Andromeda, could you get a message to Mom for me?"

"Certainly, Bekka" The image of Andromeda appeared on the screen. "What is the message?"

"Since I'm going to be pulling double shifts while we're on baby..," She saw

Charlemagne and switched gears abruptly. "While we're on escort duty," she corrected, "I'm going to have to cancel our training sessions."

"Message delivered," Andromeda informed her.

"Training sessions?" Charlemagne inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm supposed to be teaching Mom hand-to-hand combat," she explained. "It's not going to well, either. I mean, she's got the reflexes, and she learns the moves cold, first time I show her, but when we start sparring...,"

"You're her friend, and she's afraid she'll hurt you," the Nietzschean finished for her.

"Something like that," Bekka nodded. "Even if she never leaves the ship, well, we've been invaded more than once. I love her to death, we all do, but if the worst happens, she's going to be more of a liability than an asset."

"Would you like me to take over her training while I'm here?" Charlemagne suggested. "Maybe I can find some way to motivate her."

"Would you?" Bekka looked as grateful as she sounded.

"I seem to have nothing but time on my hands at the moment," the Nietzschean said dryly. "I find my so-called peers a boring lot, so I'm avoiding all but the formal gatherings in the evenings."

"Oh, Charlemagne," Bekka added as he turned to go. "Need I mention that if you hurt her, accidentally or otherwise, that this ship won't be big enough for both of us?"

The Nietzschean made a mocking bow. "I had taken that into consideration. May I impose upon your good offices to see that Meaghan is informed that her training sessions have been reinstated?"

"Good as done," Bekka answered.

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan entered the gymnasium a little apprehensively. She wondered what Bekka was up to, first canceling their training session, then uncanceling it a moment later. She was in no way prepared for the sight of Charlemagne waiting for her. Her mouth opened in a perfect O of surprise, but nothing came out.

"I offered to take Bekka's place for a few days," he announced. "I hope you don't mind."

"I suppose not," she answered slowly. "Although I don't think it's a worthwhile effort, I just don't think I have it in me to be a fighter."

"That's not what Mr. Harper tells me," the Nietzschean grinned at her. "I think you just have to be properly motivated."

"Mr. Harper has a big mouth," Meaghan grumbled. "Besides, I couldn't just let that idiot get Dylan and Seamus killed. But I think I used too much force."

Charlemagne shrugged. "Whatever achieves your objectives is never too much. You're obviously willing to fight to protect your friends, would you fight to protect me?"

Meaghan's eyes widened. "I suppose so, but you don't seem to be in any immediate danger."

"But I am," he stated quietly. "Because if you don't defend yourself from me, you're going to get hurt. And Bekka told me that if you get hurt she's going to kick my ass."

Her jaw dropped open at hearing the suave Nietzschean using such crude language. "Bekka said that?"

"She did indeed," he affirmed. "Not in exactly those words, but she does get her point across."

"But.., but..," she sputtered. "Surely you're not afraid of Bekka?"

"Of course I'd have to defend myself," Charlemagne informed her softly. "In which case Bekka might be the one who gets hurt."

Meaghan worked her way around that one. "You left out one possible option," she snapped. "I can refuse to play your little game, and I think I will." She started for the door.

The Nietzschean was lightning fast. She wasn't half-way to her objective before he caught her by the arm and swung her around to face him.

"You need to learn this, Meg," he said implacably. "To put it bluntly, if this ship were invaded, and it has been in the past, people would probably be killed trying to protect you. Do you think so little of your shipmates?"

Her temper flared. "How dare you?" she hissed. "Let me go."

"Or you'll do what?" he taunted. "Hit me? Go ahead Meaghan, that's what we're here for."

He had hold of her right arm with his right hand. Her left fist lashed out, and Charlemagne barely managed to jerk his head out of the way.

"That's better," he conceded. "Come on, Meg, make me let go of you."

She spun around and tried to catch him in the ribs with her elbow. But the agile Nietzschean again dodged the blow and caught her other arm.

"I've got both your arms now," he observed. "What are you going to do to escape me?"

She struggled, trying to wriggle free. "This is not funny."

"It isn't meant to be," Charlemagne said. "This is supposed to help make you a viable member of this crew by enabling you to take care of yourself. And if you insist on acting like a spoiled child, I'll treat you like one and put you across my knee."

Meaghan was about to say that he wouldn't dare, when she realized that he probably would. Obviously the only way she was going to get out of this predicament was to fight tooth and nail, which was exactly what Charlemagne wanted. She really didn't want to accede to his demands, but she couldn't see any other way out. She kicked backwards, aiming for his knee. Once again, he easily evaded her.

She continued to struggle, but he still held her without any apparent effort. Their feet became tangled and in a sudden flash of inspiration, she braced her ankle against his, then threw all her weight in that direction.

Charlemagne went down, but since he still had a tight grip on her arms, she went with him. And landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. The shock was enough for him to loosen his grip, she broke free and rolled away quickly rising to her feet and putting some more distance between herself and him.

The Nietzschean struggled to his feet. "That was very well done," he wheezed. "But you should have tried to finish me off while I was incapacitated instead of running away."

Meaghan tried to back up a few more steps when she came up against a wall. Charlemagne, still panting a bit, was moving closer to her, like a cat stalking its prey. Flight was no longer an option, so she ran at him, and at the last minute threw herself on the floor and rolled, tripping him up. She sprang immediately to her feet, and found that Charlemagne was already up and ready.

"That could have been done a bit better," he informed her. "You took far too much time to recover. I could have taken you."

"Why didn't you?" she asked. "Still afraid of Bekka?"

Charlemagne sighed in sheer exasperation. "You're acting like a spoiled child again, Meg." He shook his head. "Am I going to have to treat you like one?"

She had a sudden overwhelming desire to wipe that supercilious expression off his face. She charged at him blindly, and her opponent caught her up in a bear-hug, immobilizing her arms again.

"One of the first rules of combat is to never let your emotions get the better of you," he stated. "Another is never ever to rush at a stronger opponent like you just did. However are you going to get away now, Meaghan?"

She tried to put aside the sudden acute awareness she had that the abbreviated tops that she and Bekka habitually wore at practice left a great deal of bare skin. Or that fact that she was pressed up against Charlemagne's chest, and he wasn't wearing anything from the waist up. It was very distracting.

"You can't be taking so long to think things over," he advised. "It gives the other person the same opportunity. Never give an enemy an opportunity, they might do something like this."

So quickly that she didn't know quite how it happened, Meaghan found herself pinned to the floor.

"You will try harder tomorrow, won't you, Meg?" he asked quietly. "And of course you wouldn't even think of trying to skip out on me and make me track you down, would you? Unless you fancy the idea of me slinging you over my shoulder and carrying you here."

"You'd really do it too, wouldn't you?" It was more an accusation than a question.

"I think you already know the answer to that." His voice was a silken caress covering cold, hard steel. He rose to his feet and then gave her a hand up. "Tomorrow, same time and don't be late."


	3. Just an Innocent Kiss

Charlemagne was pensive as he headed back to his quarters for a shower and a change. Why was he so attracted to a human woman? He'd certainly met his share of attractive women, and acted on that attraction or not as the mood took him. But never a human. On the other hand, why not? He was aware that it was standard operating procedure on most ships for female crew members to be immunized against pregnancy, and he was pretty sure it was so for Andromeda. So if there was a minimal risk of sharing his genetic code, what could be wrong in acting on the attraction? Elsbeth had her affairs, of that he was aware, perhaps it was his turn now.

Meaghan couldn't figure Charlemagne out, but her growing attraction for a married man troubled her. She finally decided to deal with it by putting it out of her mind. After all, she seriously doubted that the attraction was mutual, and she had work to do.

&&&&&&&

Meaghan arrived nearly half an hour early for the banquet, flitting around and checking this and that two and three times, making sure that everything was going to go all right. She really wished that Dylan hadn't insisted that she attend. At least Charlemagne would be about halfway up the long table, far enough away from her that she could ignore his presence. She checked the seating chart. To her left was a functionary from a mining colony, and to her right was a King Haedmon, of Cygnus V. She wondered what he was like.

When the guests began to arrive, Meaghan was very sorry she hadn't caught her inept dance partner's name of the night before. None other than His Royal Majesty Haedmon IX, an excellent example of the dangers of inbreeding. As she pushed the food around on her plate, she wondered which was his more outstanding quality, his excessive (and undeserved), conceit, or his staggering lack of anything resembling intelligence. With a patently false smile plastered on her face, she murmured polite phrases at the indicated pauses in his monologue. Every once in a while she shot a glance at Dylan in which her plastic smile looked more like a baring of the teeth.

Charlemagne saw a few of the agonized looks that Meaghan was sending Dylan's way. He wondered whose idea it was to seat her next to that brainless, obnoxious bore, Haedmon. As the meal wound down, he rose to his feet, glass in hand.

"Esteemed colleagues." He was careful to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Might I propose a toast to our gracious host." He gestured at Dylan. "And to the lovely lady who arranged the festivities." He bowed to Meaghan. "To Dylan and Meaghan!" He drained his glass and sat down.

The rest of the guests dutifully followed his lead. Charlemagne glanced down to the foot of the table and saw that Meaghan seemed to be engaged in a spirited debate with Haedmon. He wondered what that was all about.

"Pretentious Nietzschean fop," Haedmon sniffed. "I find it offensive that he should be offering a toast to you, my dear." He smiled, a little blearily, at Meaghan.

Meaghan bit her lip to keep from telling Haedmon that what she found offensive was his attitude, not to mention his presumption of using endearments with her. "I'm sure he was just being polite," she murmured.

Haedmon made a derisive sound. "I doubt if he knows how to be polite. You should be somewhere where you would be given the courtesies due you. As you may or may not know, I have completed my mourning for my first wife and am currently seeking another." He gave Meaghan a pointed look.

She hastily took a sip of her water and it went down the wrong way, and the ensuing coughing fit and pats on her back put a pause into the conversation, but she had a feeling that it was going to be a long night, and that furthermore, it would take little short of a nova bomb to remove Haedmon from her side.

Events proved her right.

&&&&&&

Charlemagne and Dylan were walking down a corridor, chatting desultorily when a running figure caught up to them, glanced at them and stopped.

"Andromeda," Meaghan panted. "Do I have enough lead time to stop a moment?"

"He has fallen behind," the AI assured her. "Do you want me to notify you when he gets close?"

"Yes," Meaghan uttered in heart-felt tones. "You." She turned to Dylan. "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Dylan looked taken aback. "What did I do?"

"You insisted that I attend that banquet," Meaghan snapped. "And now that royal idiot, Haedmon, who can't tell the difference between simple good manners and overwhelming passion, has decided that I am going to be his next queen. It would seem that he feels that I have no say in the matter and should be grateful that he has deigned to select me to bore till the end of days."

Charlemagne barely managed to turn a chuckle into a cough. He knew Haedmon was congenitally stupid, but to think that he merited such an outstanding woman as Meaghan..,

"He's down the next corridor and getting close," the AI's voice informed them.

"You got me into this." She jabbed a finger at Dylan's chest. "You get me out."

"I have an idea," Charlemagne said quietly.

"If you can head Haedmon off before I have to knock his teeth out," Meaghan vowed, "I'll be your friend for life."

Charlemagne grinned. "Dylan, if you could place yourself up the hall a bit and slowly walk this way, try to reach us around the same time Haedmon does."

"That's all?" Hunt queried.

"You'll know what to do when the time comes," the Nietzschean assured him.

"What do I do?" Meaghan inquired softly.

"Just play along with me and do whatever comes naturally," he said with an impish gleam in his eyes. This was going to be fun.

Andromeda's voice broke in. "Haedmon is just approaching the corner."

Charlemagne took Meaghan in his arms and kissed her.

Dylan saw what was going on and barely refrained from shaking his head as he realized that Haedmon had rounded the corner and was looking like he was about to burst a blood vessel.

"Your majesty," Dylan greeted him, as if the kissing couple did not exist.

Haedmon was turning an interesting shade of purple. "Captain Hunt, would you please inform that.., that.., Nietzschean upstart that his attentions to my future queen are not in the least welcome."

Dylan glanced at Charlemagne and Meaghan. He thought they were acting out their parts extremely well, if they were acting, in which case he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "I never interfere in the private lives of my crew," he informed the livid monarch. "Although I do wish," he added, as if in an aside. "That they would keep it private. But it does seem to me, your majesty, that the lady does not find his grace's attentions at all unwelcome."

"You would expect a mere woman to know her own mind," Haedmon snorted. "She even had the nerve to try to dismiss my suit. You will, of course, order her to marry me."

Dylan sighed. "If she chose to marry you, your majesty, of course I would support her decision, but I do not have the authority to order her to either marry you or not. The decision is hers."

"And you think that she actually would prefer to have that Nietzschean pawing her, than to be my queen?" the petty kinglet demanded, but with a little less bluster.

Dylan spared the ersatz lovers another glance. If Charlemagne held her just a little bit closer, they could practically wear the same clothes. "I'm sure your majesty will have many more opportunities to meet someone more.., suitable," he said soothingly, taking Haedmon by the arm and leading him away. He spared one last look for the duo just before he and the ostensibly heart-broken monarch passed from sight. They were still kissing.


	4. Strange Bedfellows

Charlemagne finally raised his head, but seemed in no particular hurry to release her.

Meaghan glanced around. "They're gone," she observed.

"They left a while ago," he informed her.

"Then why didn't you..," Her voice trailed away, and the delicate hands resting on his shoulders suddenly shoved, hard, forcing him back a step.

Charlemagne smiled. So, it wasn't going to be quite that easy, but that just made it all the more interesting. "I saw no real reason to stop when we were both enjoying ourselves."

"I don't think it's entirely appropriate, your grace...," Meaghan began.

"Charlemagne," he interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?" She was totally bewildered.

"I think we've passed the time for formalities." He grinned wickedly at her. "At least not since we've had our tongues in each other's mouths."

Meaghan bolted.

Charlemagne watched her retreating form, but made no move to follow. Why waste energy chasing her down when he knew where she'd wind up eventually?

Meaghan's feet carried her blindly down this corridor and that almost of their own volition, until she found herself at the hydroponics bay. Normally she found it peaceful and soothing to be among the green, growing things, but now nothing seemed to calm her agitation.

She did try to sort things out, but her mind just went round and round in circles. She found it to be something of a revelation that her attraction to him was mutual, which made her dilemma all the more difficult to solve. At last she simply gave up the battle and decided to turn in, though she doubted she'd sleep.

She went into her office, in which the lighting was down to the bare minimum, just enough for her to see her way to the door to her rooms. She had nearly reached the door when a voice came from one of the dark corners.

"I wondered how long you were going to be." Charlemagne stepped into the light.

Meaghan whirled with a gasp, this was something she simply hadn't anticipated. "What are you doing here, your grace?"

"Charlemagne," he corrected. "You left somewhat abruptly, yet I was under the distinct impression that we had quite a bit more to discuss."

"Your grace," she started, then, seeing the disapproval on his face, began again. "Charlemagne, I think perhaps it might be best if we avoided each other as much as possible."

"Oh, you do," he murmured, stepping closer to her, and watching with amusement when she backed away. "I'm afraid that my opinion on the matter is quite different."

She kept backing away, but he kept coming closer, until she found that she was back up against a wall with no place to go. "This isn't right," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Right and wrong are emotionally laden human terms," Charlemagne told her, placing his hands on the wall on either side of her, effectively trapping her. "Nietzscheans are much more practical."

"Infidelity is practical?" she asked.

"Wives, lovers, Nietzschean men often have several of each," he informed her, moving even closer till there was barely a hairsbreadth of space between them. "When you have good genes, you spread them around."

"But I'm not Nietzschean." She almost whispered it. "Why are you pursuing me?"

"You fascinate me," he admitted. "You've gotten under my skin, Meaghan, and I want to find out why. Perhaps you're the cure as well as the cause."

"You should go now, please." Her voice quavered.

Charlemagne was starting to think that perhaps she really meant it. He couldn't recall not having gotten any woman he was interested in before, and the thought that this might be the first time did not sit too well with him, but his instincts said that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. "Meg, look me in the eye, and say 'Charlemagne, I want you to leave,' and I will. I promise."

Meaghan took a deep breath. "Charlemagne..,"

He reached a forefinger under her chin and tipped her head up. "Look me in the eye when you say it, Meg."

She tried again, but was finding it a bit distracting when gazing into those intensely blue eyes. "Charlemagne, I want you..," the last two words seemed to stick in her throat. At last, she finally gave up the battle. She put her hands on his shoulders and repeated, "Charlemagne, I want you."

Charlemagne bent his head down and kissed her, then swept her up in his arms and carried her into the other room.

&&&&&&&

Sometime later, they lay spooned together under the rumpled sheets. Charlemagne was idly running the tips of his fingers across her bared shoulder, occasionally stopping to plant a light kiss on the exposed skin. "Any regrets?"

She sighed softly, and snuggled back against him. "I suppose I should have, but somehow I don't seem to. And you?"

"None at all," he murmured, trailing a line of kisses up her neck. "But I haven't been cured of you, I want you just as much as ever."

She turned to face him. She reached up and traced her fingers over the planes of his face. "When I said that I'd be your friend for life, I didn't quite imagine this."

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, pulling her up on top of him. "Love me, Meg," he murmured in a voice husky with passion. "Love me."


	5. First Offense

Meaghan woke hearing a thump and a muffled curse in the darkness. She sat up and switched on the bedside light to see Charlemagne, half-dressed pulling on his boots. He looked up a little sheepishly.

"Sorry, Meg. You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you."

She checked the time. "I'd have to be getting up in an hour or so anyway." Then, a little wistfully. "You weren't going to kiss me before you left?"

Charlemagne laughed softly and sat on the edge of the bed. "Trying to tempt me to stay, Meg?" he inquired, brushing her hair back from her face.

She shook her head. "You don't need to let people start talking, word could get back to your wife." Then a thought struck her. "What about Haedmon? Is it possible he might..,"

"Shh." He silenced her with a quick kiss. "Haedmon could talk till the end of time and I seriously doubt anyone would listen to him. Besides, what if Elsbeth does find out? I've tolerated her affairs."

"You're sure?" A puzzled expression crossed her face. "Then why the secrecy?"

"Reasonably sure." He smiled down at her, wanting nothing more at the moment than to be able to crawl back under the covers with her. "The reasons for secrecy are more political than personal."

"Nietzschean politics." She grimaced.

"Exactly." Charlemagne felt a bit of a fool with a silly smile on his face so much, but he just couldn't help himself. "See you this afternoon in the gym."

Meaghan made a face. "Do I have to?" she asked plaintively.

"Yes, you do." He bent down and kissed her soundly. "Just because we've become lovers doesn't change the need for you to learn how to defend yourself. I expect you to be there, and to do your best to do some damage to me. Are we clear on that point?"

"I suppose so," she grumbled.

Charlemagne finished dressing. "This afternoon then, and you don't want to make me hunt you down, do you, Meaghan?" Without waiting for a reply, he left.

Meaghan sat staring at the door after he left, but surprisingly, her thoughts were not all for Charlemagne. She now knew who and what she was, and the most damnable thing of all about it was that she couldn't tell anyone, especially the man she was falling in love with.

&&&&&&&&&

What a busy morning it had been! All of her extra duties occupied a large portion of her time, then it seemed that everyone on the ship had suddenly developed personal problems and just had to talk to the morale officer, immediately. She changed into her work-out clothes in record time and was out the door, but was running so nearly late that she half ran down the corridors.

Just when she thought she would make it in the nick of time, when the door to the gymnasium was in sight, Haedmon appeared.

"Your captain is obviously in dereliction of his duty if he allows you to appear in public corridors in such revealing attire." Haedmon spoke scornfully, with his nose in the air, but his eyes inspected every inch of her from head to toe. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, trollop."

Meaghan sighed. "I apologize if my work-out garb offends you, your majesty, but I am running late for an appointment, so if you would please excuse me..?"

He grabbed her arm. "I am sure there must be some regulation against you wearing such scandalous.., things. I intend to take you to Captain Hunt immediately."

"I'd advise you to take your hand off my pupil." A lazy drawl came from the door to the gym. "You've already made her late."

Haedmon turned to face Charlemagne, still holding Meaghan's arm in a bruising grip. "Stay out of this, Nietzschean. It's bad enough that you seduced her away from me, but I will not tolerate this.., this public nakedness."

Meaghan grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding her and found the pressure point, but did not yet apply any pressure. Her eyes were glittering emerald points as she said coldly, "Your majesty, I am forced to say that I care little or nothing about your feelings on the lack of a dress code for off-duty personnel on this ship. If you want to complain to the captain, feel free. But I really would appreciate you releasing me. Now."

The monarch of Cygnus V, two and a half times her size sneered down at her. "You would dare to give me.., ow!" His voice broke off in a gasp of pain as Meaghan suddenly applied the needed pressure. He abruptly let go.

As Haedmon stood there cradling his aching wrist, she looked up at him and throwing diplomacy to the winds said coolly, "And one last thing, your majesty. Don't ever, ever touch me again." She turned away from him and flounced past both of them into the gym.

Charlemagne, with a pleased smirk on his face, followed her. "Meg, that was wonderful! If you can do that well against me, I'll have no worries about you."

She looked at him incredulously. "You thought that was amusing? That I actually had to hurt someone?"

Charlemagne shrugged. "The pompous ass had it coming. Actually, I think you let him off rather lightly. I guarantee that he would have had more serious damage to deal with if I had had to step in." He went over to Meaghan and wrapped his arms around her. "I really didn't like seeing that brainless hulk manhandling my woman." He kissed her forehead and released her. "Did he hurt you?"

"Just bruises," she replied, "Nothing worth mentioning."

"More damage than you did to him." Charlemagne's face clouded over slightly. "I'm seriously thinking of teaching Haedmon a little lesson."

"He hasn't the intelligence to appreciate it," she said lightly, hoping to get him off the subject. A sudden impish grin appeared on her face. "Since I did so well, does that mean that I can skip the rest of the lesson?"

He grinned back at her. "No, it means that the standards have been raised. I expect you to do well, Meg."

Meaghan stuck her tongue out at him, then started circling him, moving almost as smoothly and gracefully as the Nietzschean himself. Charlemagne pivoted slowly, moving closer to her as he did so. Suddenly she lashed out with a foot that could have cracked one of his ribs had it landed. Charlemagne barely dodged it, then managed to grab her ankle and with a deft twist, flipped her over. Meaghan lay still on the floor until he thought he had winded her, and went over to investigate. As he got in range, one of her legs flickered out and caught the back of his heels and tumbled him over.

She threw herself at him to pin him, and hit empty floor. Some sixth sense warned her of a trap, and she rolled out of the way just as Charlemagne's foot came swishing by her head.

Charlemagne grinned. "Much better, Meg, but you still have a long way to go."

&&&&&&&&

Afterwards, aching and sweaty, they walked to their respective quarters together, near, but not touching, nothing anyone could make comment on. Just outside her door, though, Charlemagne turned to her.

"Meg," he said softly. "Will you come to me tonight?"

Suddenly tongue-tied, she just nodded and slipped into her quarters without a word.


	6. Damsel in Distress

As Meaghan was stepping out of the shower, the AI appeared. "You're wanted in Dylan's office immediately, Mom." Andromeda paused. "Well, as soon as you're dressed anyway."

"What's going on?" Meaghan asked, feeling a sudden chill go up her spine.

"You are being charged with assault," the AI informed her.

"Haedmon!" Meaghan spat the name out like a curse. "But surely Dylan knows..,"

"Of course he does," Andromeda interrupted her. "I've already replayed the entire scene for him."

"Then why all this?" She selected her most sedate dress.

"Legal formalities, political niceties, any number of things," Andromeda said.

"Would another eyewitness help?" Meaghan inquired.

"You mean Charlemagne Bolivar?" It must have been Meaghan's imagination that the AI looked a little taken aback. "Do you think he'd be willing?"

"Andromeda," Meaghan said sternly. "Is there anything that goes on, on this ship that you don't see or hear?"

"I don't snoop in the crew's private affairs," the holo said primly.

"What an appropriate word," Meaghan murmured. "But you do know that they go on, or you'd hardly know where to play the three monkeys, would you dear?"

"All right, so I know about you and Charlemagne," the AI admitted. "But I haven't told anyone, not even Dylan."

"A need to know basis?" Meaghan suggested.

"Precisely."

"But you do know enough that Charlemagne will in all likelihood testify on my behalf?"

"I just wanted to know how committed you were to the course of action." Andromeda replied. "It's not just his reputation."

"We're not going there to tell Dylan that we're lovers," Meaghan stated. "And he probably already knows that Charlemagne has taken Bekka's place training me. By the way, you might want to tell Charlemagne now, make sure that he has time to dress as well."

&&&&&&&&

Charlemagne just stood under the cold, cold water for what seemed an eternity, but it didn't seem to be helping much. What was it about the soft-voiced red-head that twisted his gut into knots and excited him so much?

"I'm sorry to interrupt you." The voice came from right outside the shower. Charlemagne immediately recognized it as the ship's artificial intelligence.

"This had better be important," he snapped, turning off the water and stepping out. He was somewhat amused to note that Andromeda's hologram discreetly turned her back.

"Mom, excuse me, Meaghan is being charged with assault and would like you to testify on her behalf," the AI explained.

Charlemagne stood there dripping for a moment. "That insufferable idiot, Haedmon! When does the travesty of a trial take place?"

"It's not exactly a formal trial," Andromeda said. "Just a brief interview in Dylan's office. And as to when, as soon as you and Meaghan are dressed." The AI paused. "Meaghan is almost ready."

"Have her meet me outside the door to my quarters." He began drying himself off furiously. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

When Meaghan stepped out her door Rommie met her. "Sorry, Mom, just a formality, but I have to escort you."

"I'm beginning to think Charlemagne was right," Meaghan said. "I should have hurt Haedmon a little more. I'm starting to believe that the only way to make an impression on the dolt is through his nerve endings."

"You could be right." The ship's avatar stopped in front of the door to Charlemagne's quarters. "My AI informs me that Charlemagne will be out shortly."

It was only a few minutes before Charlemagne appeared, his hair still damp.

"Shall we, ladies?" he inquired, offering Meaghan his arm.

Charlemagne was silent on the trip to Dylan's office, but Meaghan could feel the tension in him as Rommie escorted them down the hall.

&&&&&&&&

As they entered Dylan's office, the first thing they heard was Haedmon ranting.

"Improper, ungrateful, and then to assault my royal person, she should be executed!"

"This is my ship and I'll decide what action, if any, is to be taken," Dylan said calmly.

"I'm the king of a sovereign planet!" Haedmon snapped.

"And on this ship, I'm god," Dylan replied. "So if your majesty will kindly be quiet, I can hear the other witnesses. I think I've heard everything pertinent that you have to say."

"What is that Nietzschean doing here?" Haedmon demanded. "He wasn't there."

Dylan walked over the livid monarch and stood so close they were practically nose to nose. "I am in charge of this investigation, your majesty, not you. I also believe that I asked you to be quiet. I won't ask again." He turned to the view screen where the AI waited patiently. "Andromeda, do you have a record of the incident?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Please play it," Dylan said.

And the scene came to life on the screen in all its tawdry glory. After the germane portion of the byplay had been replaced by Andromeda's face again, Dylan turned back to the others.

"That was a patent falsification!" Haedmon shouted, furiously. "That person attacked me unprovoked."

Dylan started to say something, but closed his mouth again. Charlemagne released Meaghan's arm, then grabbed her sleeve and casually ripped it from shoulder to elbow to expose the large, darkening bruise.

"Then, do you want to explain how Meaghan got that bruise, Haedmon?" the Nietzschean asked softly.

The king sniffed. "You probably did it yourself. Everyone knows what Nietzscheans are capable of."

Charlemagne pulled the tattered sleeve aside and laid his hand gently over the bruise. The edges of it extended far beyond the confines of his hand.

"Doesn't fit, I'm afraid," he remarked conversationally. "Do you want to see if yours does?"

"No!" Meaghan burst out. All eyes turned to her. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't stand to have him touch me."

"Your majesty," Dylan grated out, obviously just barely keeping his temper in check. "If you didn't have diplomatic immunity, I would toss you into the brig myself and throw away the key. You will keep your hands off of my crew members, and most particularly, you will stay away from Meaghan. Do I make myself clear?"

"I'll be speaking to your superiors about this," Haedmon snarled.

"Feel free. Now would you be so good as to leave?" Dylan requested.

"Certainly." Haedmon stalked out, giving Meaghan an evil glare as he left.

"Andromeda," Dylan said.

"Yes sir," the AI responded.

"For the duration of Haedmon's stay on board, I want you to monitor him," Hunt ordered. "No privacy mode either, not for anything."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"I'm sorry, Dylan," Meaghan said softly. "I guess I should have handled things better."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Mom," Dylan answered gently. "In fact, you showed remarkable restraint. I'm sorry I had to put you through this." He walked over to where she and Charlemagne were standing. "Charlemagne, thank you for your help in this." He offered the Nietzschean his hand.

Charlemagne shook his hand and said "Happy to oblige. If you will excuse us, Captain, I believe that I owe the lady a new dress."


	7. Shall We Dance

As soon as the trio left Dylan's office, Rommie said, "Mom, you have three people waiting for you in your office. My AI explained that you were being delayed."

"Looks like I'd better run then," Meaghan said. "Thank you both." Then she raced away down the corridor.

Charlemagne was looking at Rommie quizzically. "She has a perfectly good name, why do none of you use it?"

The avatar considered a moment. "When she first got here, of course, she didn't have a name. Harper said she looked like his cousin, Meg, and she liked it so that became her official name. 'Mom' just sort of happened. And she does tend to mother people."

"Not me, she doesn't," Charlemagne remarked bluntly.

It was the avatar's turn to scrutinize the Nietzschean. "Maybe because you're the only male of her acquaintance who's never treated her as a curiosity or a parental figure, but simply as an attractive woman."

Charlemagne stopped in his tracks. "Surely not," he protested. "She's.., exquisite, charming and extremely feminine. How could a man not notice?"

"I'm afraid that's outside of my field of expertise," Rommie admitted. "May I ask a question?"

"I suppose so." The Nietzschean eyed her a bit warily. "I won't guarantee an answer."

"Have you considered what it will do to her when you leave the ship?" the avatar asked bluntly. "Not for the conference, but when you go back home."

"What makes it any of your business?" Charlemagne snapped.

"I.., care about her." The android turned and looked him in the eye. "And I think that Meaghan is falling in love with you and that when you leave it will break her heart." She turned abruptly and left him standing there.

"What about my heart?" said Charlemagne softly, to no one at all.

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan raced through the rest of her day at break-neck speed. Things just seemed to pile up faster than she could get to them. When she finally wound down, she realized that she was very late for the evening's activities. She changed hurriedly and nearly flew down the halls to the observation deck.

Tonight was more or less a repetition of the first night's reception, most of the evenings were, it was simpler and it afforded something for everyone. There wasn't really anything more extensive until the last night before they started dropping the delegates off on their respective planets.

She circulated around the room chatting and being pleasant, and desperately looking for Charlemagne while pretending she wasn't. She finally caught a glimpse of him, playing go with Dylan, and somehow, that satisfied her, just knowing where he was.

She continued to mingle, but stayed away from the dance floor tonight. She was in the middle of a conversation with the ambassador from Vespas, when Charlemagne sauntered up.

"Please excuse us." He made a short bow to the ambassador. "But I believe that the lady promised me a dance, and I'd like to collect."

The ambassador smiled genially at them as Charlemagne practically dragged Meaghan onto the dance floor.

"What was that all about?" she inquired, as the Nietzschean twirled her around the floor.

"I'm sorry, were you enjoying yourself?" he asked coldly. "I'll let you go back to him if you like."

"I was doing my job," she replied with some asperity. "You know, mingling, setting people at their ease, that sort of thing."

"And that's all it was." He sounded like he didn't quite believe it. "You seemed to be having a good time."

Understanding dawned. "Are you jealous?" she asked incredulously.

"Of him?" Charlemagne made a derisive sound. "Not likely."

"Then why are you acting this way?" Meaghan inquired.

"Where were you earlier this evening?"

"I got held up," she explained, with just a little heat. "With my job. I had work to do, and I wasn't free earlier. Was there anything else, your grace?" She deliberately threw his title at him.

"I guess there isn't," he snapped, releasing her. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." He released her and walked away.

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan sleep-walked through the rest of the evening, polite and pleasant on the outside, but inside, she was utterly miserable. She stayed very late, until all but the last die-hard gamers, the ones that would stay all night, were all that was left.

She remembered her promise to go to Charlemagne's room that night, and wondered if it would be worth the effort, or if it would just be to receive another figurative slap in the face. In the end, she felt that she had to see him, even if it was to endure another rebuff.

She buzzed the door to his room, and stood there trembling with trepidation. It seemed to take forever before he answered, and she was on the verge of leaving several times.

Charlemagne had obviously been just about to retire for the evening, to judge by his attire. He stood there a moment, just staring at her coolly, not moving, saying nothing.

Meaghan wished he would say something, anything, when the doubt, tension and all the annoyances and grievances of the long day welled up and spilled over in the form of a single tear, trickling down her cheek.

Charlemagne, on his part had thought he had turned her away from him forever, and he had mixed feelings about the whole thing. It was some considerable surprise to him when she appeared at his door. He was furious at her for seemingly enjoying being in the company of other men, and even more so with himself for acting in such a juvenile manner. An uncharacteristic fit of indecision gripped him, and so he just stood there, mute, looking at her. Then, when that lone, wayward tear ran down her cheek, it left him feeling like the lowest crawling thing in the galaxy, an unpleasant and totally unaccustomed feeling. She slowly started to turn away to leave, and suddenly he couldn't bear it.

"Meg, wait," he rasped. "I'm sorry, don't leave me."

Meaghan turned and threw herself into his arms.


	8. Interlude

Sometime later, they sat, propped up on a myriad of pillows. Charlemagne had his arms wrapped around Meaghan as if he intended never to let her go.

"I'm sorry, Meg," he murmured, kissing her on the tip of her nose. He had already said it several times during the tempestuous love-making session, more, probably, than he had ever used the phrase in his entire life.

"You don't have to keep saying that," she said softly, tracing a finger over the delicate arch of his collarbone.

"Why did you come here?" he queried. "After the way I behaved tonight, it would have been understandable if you never wanted to see me again. Not that I'm complaining," he added, catching hold of her hand and kissing the palm.

"I promised that I would," she answered, tilting her head back and kissing his chin, that only part of his face she could reach at the moment. "I just couldn't bear the thought of not being with you again. And I was hoping," she added a little shyly, "that you would feel the same way."

"It's never been this way before, Meg," he confessed. "Not with any other woman I've ever been with."

"Of course not, silly," she said impishly. "I'm not any of them."

&&&&&&&&

Two days later:

Meaghan deftly blocked Bekka's punch, then caught her wrist and flipped her onto the mat with a thud.

"You've really been improving the last few days, Mom," Bekka observed, still prone on the floor. "Charlemagne said he thought he might be able to find a way to motivate you. I guess he did."

"Had enough?" Meaghan asked, forcing a grin that she didn't feel.

"Sparring practice, yes, most definitely," Bekka replied, pulling herself to her feet. "But how about a little girl-talk?"

"You have a problem, Bekka?" Meaghan asked, slipping into morale officer mode.

"Not at present." Bekka eyed her sparring partner questioningly. "But I was wondering if you do. Ever since the delegates left the ship for the conference, you've been, well, kind of mopey. And I'm not the only one who's noticed it."

"I guess the extra work has just left me feeling a little run-down," Meaghan hedged. "I expect that after we get everyone back to where they belong I'll settle back down to normal."

"You are a terrific organizer, and a great morale officer, Mom," Bekka said, "but you're one lousy liar. Is it King Haedmon? Dylan filled me in on that little incident."

"No, it isn't that." Meaghan unconsciously let her thoughts drift toward Charlemagne, and her eyes acquired a dreamy look.

Bekka caught that look and sized it up immediately. "You've fallen in love with someone, haven't you? One of the delegates?"

Meaghan sighed. Bekka was right in that she was a terrible liar, but much as she wanted to, she couldn't tell her about Charlemagne. "Yes and yes, Bekka, but that's all that I can tell you, really."

Bekka realized that she had gotten as much out of Meaghan as she was going to and decided not to try to force the issue. "Just remember, that if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on I'm here."

Meaghan hugged her, but said nothing for fear that she would burst into tears.

&&&&&&&

When the delegates finally returned to the ship at the conference's end, Charlemagne immediately went to Meaghan's office. It was empty, and he was turning to leave when she emerged from her quarters.

"Meg." He rushed over to her and swept her up into his arms and kissed her.

"Charlemagne," she protested weakly. "Someone could come in and see us."

"Let them," he said, gazing down at her and just taking in the sight of her. "I missed you, Meg, so much."

"It's only been three days," she pointed out, then gave the lie to her casual attitude by pulling his head down so that she could kiss him.

"And you didn't miss me?" he teased, once they had come up for air.

"Terribly," she admitted. "All I could think about was you."

"Ah, Meg," he murmured, squeezing her tightly. "What have you done to me? I'm acting like a schoolboy with his first crush."

Before Meaghan could formulate a reply, the AI appeared in the room, and hastily averted holographic eyes from the embracing couple. They separated, but not too quickly and not too far from each other.

"Excuse me," Andromeda said. "But Bekka asked me to find out if Charlemagne intended to resume your training, Meaghan."

"Of course," Charlemagne answered, seemingly unruffled by the interruption. "Was there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact there is," the AI replied. "Meaghan, Dylan wanted me to let you know that King Haedmon is returning home on another ship."

"He is?" Meaghan was patently relieved. "But I don't understand why. Surely not because of me?"

"You underestimate yourself," Andromeda said. "Not everyone does. Dylan said that after what you went through with," the AI paused briefly. "Well, I won't repeat his comments verbatim, but the captain felt that it was the least he could do after all you've done for the good of the crew." The hologram winked out.

Charlemagne looked at her puzzled expression, then suddenly grinned wickedly. "It's over an hour till our training session, Meg." He took her hand and started leading her to her room. "How about a training session of a different sort?"


	9. Farewell Isn't Goodbye

It was their last training session together. Charlemagne currently had Meaghan pinned to the floor, again.

"You're not trying, Meg," he complained. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she murmured evasively, trying and failing to dislodge him.

"Liar," he accused softly. "I can teach you to fight, but I don't think anyone could make a convincing liar out of you."

"I thought it sounded a little more polite than 'Charlemagne, I'm not going to tell you.'" Meaghan said.

His eyes took on a calculating cast. "Really. Suppose I make you tell me?"

"Do you honestly think you can?" she challenged him.

"Do you think that I don't already know?" he riposted. "It's about us, and the fact that I'll be leaving soon, isn't it?"

Meaghan's face clouded over. "I don't want to think about it. We both have responsibilities that we can't shirk, but the thought of never seeing you again makes me feel.., empty."

At that point Charlemagne felt that he had no option but to kiss her soundly. Then the sound of footsteps nearby made him jerk his head back abruptly.

"Excuse me." Bekka didn't sound all that sorry. "I had a little free time and wanted to see how things are going. And if that's how you managed to motivate her, Charlemagne, it's no wonder I didn't have any luck."

Charlemagne rose to his feet, pulling Meaghan up with him. He decided to brazen things out and pretend that the kiss never happened. "It's not going well at all today, she won't concentrate on what she's supposed to be doing."

Bekka caught the implied message to forget what she had seen. "You're not getting all mopey again, are you Mom?"

"Mopey?" Charlemagne queried, "when was this?"

"While all you diplomatic types were at the conference," the XO explained. "What was that phrase I heard you use once, Mom? Miserable as a wet cat? And how do you know about cats? They've been extinct a long time."

"Have they really?" Meaghan's eyes widened. "What a shame."

"If you ladies are going to stand here chatting," Charlemagne remarked. "Then, rather than stay here and feel redundant, I believe I'll be going." He bowed and left.

Bekka watched Meaghan watching him go. "Oh, Mom, what have you done?" she asked quietly.

Meaghan turned to her. "You know what I've done, Bekka, I've fallen in love."

&&&&&&&&

It was a formal party that night, a good-bye to all the delegates. Meaghan wandered around, being sweetly polite, and taking in not one word that was said to her. As usual, her eyes sought out Charlemagne, and found him talking to Bekka, of all people. This was the first time Dylan's exec. had attended one of the formal functions. Eaten up with curiosity, she went over to them.

"Bekka." She smiled at her. "Gotten over your allergies?"

"Very funny, Mom, but I really prefer to leave this sort of thing to other people." Bekka in her very informal clothes did look a little out of place. "I had a message to deliver, and now that I've done that, I think I'll just leave before I break out in hives."

The Nietzschean studied the look on the pretty red-head's face. "You're quite fond of her, aren't you?"

"She's my friend," Meaghan said simply. "What was the message that she had to deliver?"

"Evidently there has been an outbreak of life or death emergencies on the home-worlds of all the delegates, with the exception of me," Charlemagne informed her. "Therefore, since it is imperative that all the others get home at the soonest possible moment, I shall be the last one returned." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Bekka gave us one more day together, Meg."

"I told you she's my friend." She smiled up at him. "Isn't that the sort of thing you do for friends?"

"Nietzscheans don't," he remarked. "A Nietzschean always considers what he'll get out of the bargain. Altruism isn't in our vocabulary."

"Is that why it seems to bother you so?" she queried gently. "Because now you feel you owe Bekka something?"

"Maybe something like that," Charlemagne sighed. "Still, this will be our last opportunity to dance together, Meg, shall we?" He held out his hand.

She clasped his extended hand. "Far be it from me to shirk my duties, your grace," she murmured, but ruined it all with the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Your grace, indeed," Charlemagne whispered in her ear as they danced. "You'll pay for that later, my lady."

&&&&&&&

That night as they lay tired and sated in each other's arms, Charlemagne remarked, "You don't have to stay here, you know. I have a very extensive personal staff. I could find a place for you. Then we could be together."

Meaghan lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, just enjoying the closeness of him for a moment before she answered. "Everything I have I owe to Dylan and the crew of the Andromeda. And just doing the little that I can makes me feel as if I'm contributing to something important. I can't ignore that, and as much as I want to be with you, I can't let you create a place for me just so I can be your guilty secret."

"I could never feel guilty about you, Meg," Charlemagne protested. "And I wouldn't be creating a place for you, you're intelligent and competent, you would be an asset."

"Thank you, love," she responded. "Knowing how Nietzscheans are about such things I feel very complimented, but it doesn't change my answer, it can't."

"I don't want us to be parted, Meg," he pleaded. "I feel as if I've only really started living the last few days."

"I love you," she said simply, "but I just can't leave the Andromeda."

"I understand," he answered sadly, but he was afraid that he really didn't.

&&&&&&&

Since Charlemagne was the last of the delegates to debark, and because he was a familiar face, most of the senior staff were in the docking bay to see him off.

"Good-bye, Charlemagne." Dylan clasped his hand warmly. "And thank you for standing up for Meaghan."

"My pleasure, captain," the Nietzschean replied.

Harper was next. He still thought the Nietzschean was a bit pretentious and over-dressed, but.., he extended his hand, and when Charlemagne took it said, "You're all right, I guess. You're the only Nietzschean I've ever really talked to, except Tyr.., and your wife," he added as an afterthought. Then his tongue ran away as it often did and Seamus spoke his mind without thinking. "Man, she's hot."

Charlemagne couldn't manage to suppress a smile. "I'll tell Elsbeth you said so." And watched Harper turn crimson to the roots of his hair.

"This is your stop, I believe," quipped Bekka.

"It is indeed," he answered, then on sudden impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Bekka."

A look of mutual understanding passed between them, then Bekka was gone.

To his surprise, even the ship's avatar was there.

"Good-bye, Charlemagne," Rommie said.

"Take care of her for me please," the Nietzschean requested softly. Then Rommie nodded and left.

And then there was Meg, looking so fragile at the moment that it seemed a mere touch would break her. The others had left as they had made their good-byes, and now it was just the two of them.

"Meg," he breathed softly, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. "If you ever change your mind, let me know, because I won't change mine."

Meaghan kissed him back fiercely, then choking back a sob, turned and left.


	10. A Little Surprise

Bekka was waiting outside the docking bay when Meaghan came out, fighting a losing battle against the tide of tears.

"Remember what I said about a shoulder to cry on?" Bekka said gently, and opened her arms.

Meaghan stumbled into Bekka, and just held on to her friend sobbing. Eventually, the flow of tears waned, and Meaghan choked out through the aftermath of sniffles, "Why does doing the right thing hurt so much?"

"I don't know why, Mom." Bekka stroked her hair soothingly. "But it usually does. They do say though, that no one ever died of a broken heart."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

&&&&&&&

Meaghan retired to her room for the rest of the day, and the entire crew left her strictly alone. What she didn't know was that the AI stood watch over her door and warned off anyone who wanted to see her.

&&&&&&&

The next day Meaghan emerged from her room, but moved like an automaton, just going through the motions, but not really there. She wandered about listlessly, and wound up in hydroponics as Trance was tending her plants.

"Hello Trance." Meaghan sounded like a recorded message, but without as much feeling.

Trance sighed. She really didn't want to intrude on Meaghan's grief, but she did have responsibilities of her own. "Mom, I hate to bother you, but you really need to go with me to medical, remember?"

To Trance's surprise, Meaghan didn't even argue at all. "All right. " Was all she said.

Standard operating procedure required a full medical check-up before administering the half dozen or so vaccinations and immunizations. Trance did so, and checked the results, then checked them again.

"Mom," she said softly. "There's something I have to tell you."

"I'm not sick, am I?" Meaghan inquired, showing the first infinitesimal sign of life she had all day.

"No," Trance replied slowly, "you're not sick. You're pregnant."

Meaghan's head jerked up, and she lost the lackadaisical slouch. "I'm pregnant?"

Trance's heart wasn't really in it, but she had to ask. "If you want, I can abort it for you."

"No!" The fire had come back into Meaghan's eyes. There was a long pause, then, sounding much more like herself, she said, "If I killed everyone who inconvenienced me, Mr. Harper would have long since been a memory."

Trance started carrying on with the immunizations, the one for birth-control remaining conspicuously on the table. "You're going to have to tell Dylan, you know."

"I know," Meaghan admitted. "Trance, you're not like the others, are you?"

"Obviously not." Trance looked at her puzzled. "But you're not talking outward appearances, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Meaghan answered. "And if there is one thing that everyone is agreed on, it's that Trance can keep a secret. I have one, and it's killing me not having anyone to share it with."

Trance just stood there a moment, then she held out her hands to Meaghan, who took them in her own. They just stood there for several minutes, holding each other's hands and looking into each other's eyes, yet in some way there seemed to be a profound exchange of information.

Trance's eyes widened. "That's why you couldn't go." She sounded a little awestruck.

"But now I'm going to have to," Meaghan said. "And I don't know how I'm going to do what I have to do."

"You'll find a way," Trance assured her. "You've come this far, you can't stop now."

"I don't really have any choice, do I?" Meaghan asked. "And now, I think I'd better go talk to Dylan."

&&&&&&&&

Once Meaghan stepped outside medical, she said, "Andromeda?"

The AI appeared immediately. "He's waiting for you."

&&&&&&&

Meaghan was mostly herself again, remembering why she was here helped that much, anyway. Still, she entered Dylan's office with a bit of trepidation. She wasn't entirely sure how he was going to take the news.

"Hello, Mom." Dylan bent down to hug her, it wasn't anything he had planned, she just looked like she could use a hug. "Andromeda said you needed to talk to me."

"I do," she replied, "I'm just not sure where to start."

"Sit down and take your time." He settled her into a chair, then took one himself. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But I am," Meaghan told him. "Dylan I need you to drop me off somewhere, I'm not sure where, someplace where I can earn my keep."

Dylan couldn't have been more surprised if she had hit him. "You want to leave the Andromeda, why?"

"I don't want to," she admitted slowly. "But I think I kind of have to."

"You're not making any sense, Mom," Dylan remarked. "Just why do you have to leave?"

"Because, I think that you'll agree with me that a the Andromeda isn't the right place to have a baby," she explained slowly.

If Hunt had been surprised before, now he was actually shocked. "You're pregnant?"

"Yes." For a small moment, all her cares dropped away from her and she seemed to glow. Almost of their own volition, her hands protectively cradled her stomach.

"Charlemagne?" It didn't seem right to Dylan, but he hadn't seen his morale officer with anyone else.

"Also yes." Meaghan smiled at him.

"You have to tell him, Meaghan," Dylan said gently. "It's Charlemagne's child too, he has a right to know."

"I can't tell him." Meaghan mentally cringed at the thought. "I don't want him to feel in any way obligated..,"

Hunt interrupted her. "He is obligated. You didn't make that baby all by yourself. Besides, whatever else you can say about Nietzscheans, they love their children."

"But what about his wife?" she asked, "or his political situation? A child by a woman who is not a Nietzschean could cause him a lot of problems."

"And they'd be his problems to deal with," Dylan pointed out. "But I'm not suggesting that you tell the world, just Charlemagne. Andromeda can set you up a secure channel, no one will be able to listen in on what the two of you say." He looked at her troubled features for a long moment then made the supreme sacrifice. "If you really want me to, Meaghan, I'll tell him for you."

Meaghan smiled at him, a little sadly. "Dylan, you are one of the dearest people I know, and I thank you for your offer, but I think I have to tell him myself."

"I think you're right." He was relieved at having been spared the awkwardness. He got to his feet, and when she stood too, he pulled her into his arms for another hug, and kissed the top of her head. "Meaghan, remember that whatever you and Charlemagne decide to do, you have friends here that will stand beside you, no matter what."

Meaghan pushed herself away from him and said shakily. "Stop being so nice and understanding, or I'll start crying again."

Hunt smiled at her. "I'll leave now, and Andromeda will connect you to Charlemagne."

&&&&&&&&&

Charlemagne was alone in his private office, catching up on some paperwork, when the call from the Andromeda arrived. Since he had ordered that he not be disturbed, the fact that the hail came from that particular source was the only thing that kept him from giving someone a severe tongue-lashing. He switched on his viewer, and was more than a little surprised to see Meaghan.

"Missing me already?" he asked her, just sitting there and drinking in the sight of her, and not even wondering why she would be calling him on a secure channel.

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. "I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving the Andromeda."

Charlemagne grinned from ear to ear. "You decided to take me up on my offer, have you Meg?" He was positively delighted.

"No." She surprised him again. "I have to leave, but I don't think it would be a good idea for me to.., to..," She was at a complete loss for words, but Charlemagne got the point.

"Why not?" he asked a little tersely. "What do you mean, have to leave? Why?"

"Because Captain Hunt agrees with me that a warship isn't the best place for a baby," she blurted out.

Charlemagne just sat there stunned for a moment. "A baby," he repeated. "Is it mine?"

"I haven't been with anyone else," she confessed. "I wasn't even going to tell you, but Dylan insisted."

Suddenly, he was angry. "You're going to have my child and you weren't even going to tell me?" Then just as quickly his anger faded to be replaced with an idiot grin. "You're going to have my child."

"Which is why I can't go there," she replied. "Suppose that he looks like you. Nietzscheans cut their teeth on genetics, there will be no way to keep it secret."

"Right now I'd like to shout it from the rooftops," he enthused. Then he sobered again. "But make no mistake, Meg, you are coming here. If you go anywhere else, I will track you down and drag you back with me if needs be. You are not going to keep me from our child."

"But..," Meaghan started.

"No buts, Meg," he said sternly. "Tell Captain Hunt to bring you here as soon as possible."

Meaghan started to open her mouth to protest again, then saw the utter futility of it and gave in to the inevitable.


	11. Arrangements Made

Charlemagne just sat, staring at the now blank viewscreen. He was torn between delight and consternation. If he had any sense, he would allow Meaghan to go someplace where she could be completely anonymous, merely surreptitiously channeling funds to her to enable her to keep herself and the child. There were far and away too many complications to having her near at hand. So why was he acting in such an un-Nietzschean fashion? He was hardly so inexperienced as to be captivated by nothing more than a pretty face, although honesty compelled him to admit that there was far more to Meaghan than that. And if, or more likely when, the news got around that he had fathered a child on a human woman.., It made no sense at all, until he started thinking about Meg, envisioning the increasing swell of her belly as his child grew within her, and sense went to the four winds, and all he wanted was to have her and his child near him.

Well, since he was going to be irrational anyway, he had best make the necessary arrangements. Even though the Andromeda had barely left, he was aware that there could be delays in Meaghan's arrival. But on the other hand there might not, so he would have to put things in motion immediately.

And then there was the matter of what he was going to tell Elsbeth. He knew that he was going to have to tread carefully there. Being Nietzschean herself, Elsbeth naturally had a suspicious nature, she would be sure to be watching him carefully, looking for the least little sign of self-incrimination. He would have to be cautious not to show any sort of affection, or even familiarity with Meaghan. The thought was displeasing, but he wanted Meg near him so badly that he was willing to go through it for her, and their son.

Son? Where did he get that notion? It was far too early in the pregnancy to tell the sex of the baby. Meg had referred to the child as he, but that was probably just a linguistic convenience.

First of all, he had told Meaghan he would find a position for her on his personal staff. He was fairly certain that a battle would ensue if he merely tried to set her up in idle luxury, the lady definitely liked to feel useful. A slightly evil gleam crept into his eyes. He had been thinking of getting rid of his personal secretary for some time, the man's attitude got on his nerves, and the only reason he was still in Charlemagne's employ was that he was efficient. But he had confidence that Meg could handle the chore, and if they couldn't resume their relationship as lovers, at least he would have her there working closely with him. He summoned the aforementioned secretary.

"Yes, your grace?" The summons was answered by a nondescript man of middle years who had his nose so far in the air that one doubted that he ever saw the ground.

"I want you to make sure everything is in order and start getting your things together, Manfred." Charlemagne didn't even look up at him as he spoke. "You'll be leaving as soon as your replacement arrives."

"Have I failed to carry out my duties satisfactorily, your grace?" His tones were polite enough, but from the quick glance Charlemagne stole he looked like he was going to have a stroke.

"It is not for you to question my orders, Manfred," the archduke spoke sternly. "Just see to it that they're carried out."

"Yes, your grace," the secretary answered. "Will that be all, your grace?"

"You are dismissed." Charlemagne looked up just enough to see that the man practically stalked out of the room. He checked the time and found that it soon would be dinner time, and since he had just gotten back, he'd better see to it that he was on time. Elsbeth thought that dining formally was silly, but had more or less accustomed herself to it. But she would be put out if he were late, and he wanted to keep her in as good a mood as possible right now.

&&&&&

He just barely had time to change. Elsbeth was already seated when he arrived. He planted a husbandly kiss on her cheek before going to his own seat at the other end of the table.

Elsbeth put a hand to her cheek wonderingly. While Charlemagne was a wonderful lover, little casual displays of affection like that kiss on the cheek were not generally in his repertoire. She instantly came to conclusion that he was up to something, but decided to play along with him for the moment. "Did you get all your paperwork caught up?"

"Nearly." He paused to take a small sip of his wine. "I might have finished it, but there was a small interruption."

"Oh really," Elsbeth said with carefully affected interest. "I thought you gave orders that you were not to be disturbed."

"I did." Did she suspect something? It was hard to tell, Elsbeth was almost as good at these games as he was. "But I got a call from the Andromeda. They have a new position on the ship, something called a morale officer, and she's such an efficient little thing, that I offered her a position on my staff."

"Then why didn't you bring her with you?" Now Elsbeth was pretty sure of what was going on, but she didn't let it show. At least she had never been tactless enough to flaunt her lovers in front of her husband.

"She originally turned me down," he responded dryly, still recalling how it had stung when Meg had done so. "But it seems as though she's been a bit careless, and now she needs employment elsewhere."

"Careless how?" Elsbeth's curiosity was really piqued now.

"She's pregnant," Charlemagne answered bluntly. There was no point in trying to hide that from his wife, since the truth would be evident soon enough. He figured that if he told her outright, she was less likely to suspect that he was the father.

"Don't humans generally abort unwanted children?" Elsbeth hadn't had too much experience with humans but she had picked up a thing or two.

"Apparently she does want the child." Charlemagne was hard put not to smile at the thought. It had never occurred to him that Meaghan could have simply done away with the baby and he never would have been the wiser. It pleased him no end that she obviously did want his child.

"And the father?" Elsbeth pressed. "Surely he should be accepting his responsibilities?"

"They're humans, Elsbeth," Charlemagne said slowly, not really wanting to get into a discussion about the father of Meaghan's baby. "They don't always take their familial responsibilities as seriously as we do."

"Family?" Elsbeth suggested.

"She doesn't seem to have any," her husband informed her. "The Andromeda found her floating around in space in a 700 year old stasis pod."

"How curious," she murmured thoughtfully. "Do you think she'll be able to handle the job?"

"As I said, she's an efficient little thing." Charlemagne paused while a servant brought in the next course. "She woke up with no memories whatsoever, so I'm told, but she was serving in an official capacity on the Andromeda within a few months."

Elsbeth was somewhat impressed in spite of herself. She had learned a little respect for humans in her own dealings with the crew of the Andromeda, and one and all, they were exceptional people, for humans. This woman might just be a force to be reckoned with.

"You haven't mentioned her name, Charlemagne," she said.

"Meaghan is the name they gave her." Charlemagne signaled to the servant to remove his empty plate. "But nearly the entire crew calls her 'Mom.'"

"And when do I get to meet her?" Elsbeth inquired.

"It depends," Charlemagne rose from his seat. "On when the Andromeda can get her here." Then a thought struck him. "I nearly forgot. We'll have to arrange for a place for her to stay."

Elsbeth shrugged. "Well, if she's going to be your personal secretary, and your offices are here anyway, why not here in the ducal palace? It isn't like there isn't plenty of room." It had just seemingly popped out of her mouth of its own accord, but once she said it, Elsbeth liked the idea. She would be able to keep her eye on the woman this way.

"Here?" For one brief moment, Charlemagne lost control. "Do you really think it would be.., suitable?"

"I don't see why not." Elsbeth twined her arm around her husband's as they left the dining room. "It isn't like we don't have several staff members in residence now."

"If you're entirely sure, my love," he said a bit weakly.

"Completely." Elsbeth had a gleam in her eye he wasn't entirely sure he liked. "Now," she purred, "why don't you come with me and let me show you how much I missed you."

"A delightful notion." Charlemagne allowed himself to be led along to their rooms.

Elsbeth grinned wickedly. She was sure she would be able to show him she could please him in ways his little human never thought of, and then maybe he would get over this nonsense.


	12. Leaving Home

Meaghan put her head down on Dylan's desk. What was Charlemagne thinking? They couldn't possibly be together under his wife's eye, and once the baby was born, she didn't think it would take anyone, most especially Elsbeth, too much effort to figure out that Charlemagne was the father of her child.

Dylan entered quietly and sat on the edge of the desk, and Meaghan raised her head.

"Are you all right, Meaghan?" the captain queried gently. "Didn't Charlemagne take the news well?"

"That depends on how you define the word, 'well,'" she answered wearily. "He wants you to take me there to stay."

"He what?" Hunt's jaw dropped. "Is he crazy?"

"I don't know," Meaghan confessed, "But I do know that I couldn't talk him out of it. He told me that if I went anywhere else he'd find me and drag me back."

Dylan covered his eyes a moment. "Meaghan, I don't know what this says to you, but to me it says that Charlemagne must really love you. He must, to be acting so.., so..,"

"Un-Nietzschean?" she suggested.

"Exactly," he agreed. "And about the baby?"

"Actually, he seemed to be pleased about it," she informed him. "At least once he got over the fact that I hadn't been going to tell him."

The captain's eyes bugged a little. "You told him that?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "Probably not the brightest thing I've done lately. But at least I know that my son will be loved by both parents."

Dylan looked a little amused. "Aren't you calling that a little soon? It's too early to tell..,"

"It's a boy," she interrupted him firmly.

"If you say so Meaghan." He gave in. "Now I think we need to see to your travel arrangements."

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan's leaving was an emotional one, even Harper was surreptitiously wiping his eyes on his sleeve, but finally all the good-byes were said, and she and Bekka boarded the Maru.

Bekka neatly maneuvered her ship out of the Andromeda's docking bay. "Are you ready for this, Meaghan?" Somehow over the last week, the 'Mom' had quietly dropped out of nearly everyone's speech.

"As ready as I can be, I suppose," Meaghan answered slowly. "But it's a little scary, leaving home for the first time, as it were."

Bekka turned to smile at her, but it was a sad smile. "If things get too tough, you know who to call, don't you?"

"My best friend, Bekka?" Meaghan returned the smile.

"If it's a girl, you can prove that by naming her after me." Bekka patted her hand.

"Sorry, dearie, but this one's a boy," Meaghan said. "And if one more person tells me that it's too early to tell.., Well, I just know he's a boy."

&&&&&&&

All too soon the Eureka Maru was landing at a private spaceport near Charlemagne's ducal palace. His grace himself came out to greet the new arrival.

There was a small entourage waiting a short distance away, but only Charlemagne actually entered the ship.

"Meg," he murmured, folding her into his arms.

Meaghan was scandalized. "Charlemagne," she hissed, trying to struggle free, "someone might see us."

"Not in here," he corrected her. "I had to hold you just once before we had to be formal strangers for the world." He kissed her thoroughly.

"I hate to be a wet blanket," Bekka broke in, "but if you spend too much time in here..," she let her voice trail off suggestively.

"You're absolutely right," Charlemagne agreed with a sigh. "Will you be staying with us for a while, Bekka?"

"I'd like to." Bekka was patently lying. "But it's right back to the Andromeda for me, as soon as we get Meaghan's belongings unloaded."

"There's not much," Meaghan said hurriedly, and went to get the two largish bags that contained all her possessions.

"No you don't, Meg." Charlemagne stopped her. "No lifting, you're pregnant, in case you've forgotten."

"And you're not allowed to fuss over me either," she retorted. "People are likely to talk as it is."

Bekka solved the problem by fetching the bags herself. "Shall we?" she suggested.

Meaghan almost lost her nerve at the thought of meeting so many new people at once, especially Elsbeth, who stood at the forefront of the assemblage.

"Elsbeth," Charlemagne said, "this is Meaghan. Meaghan, my wife, Elsbeth."

"Your grace." Meaghan curtsied, and remembered that this was how it had all started with Charlemagne.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Elsbeth murmured conventionally. So this was the human who had captured her husband's fancy. And somehow, seeing the two of them, standing side by side, they almost looked as though they belonged together. But Elsbeth was not about to give in without a fight.

For her part, Meaghan saw a tall Amazonian beauty, athletic and exotic, and she wondered how Charlemagne could even think of looking at another woman when he already had this one.

Someone came forward and relieved Bekka of Meaghan's bags. "Time for me to go, Meaghan," the pilot said.

Meaghan felt her eyes begin to tear up. "Good-bye, Bekka. I'm going to miss you." They exchanged a hug, and then Bekka went back the way she had come, leaving Meaghan to face her new situation on her own.


	13. Two Women Under One Roof

As Meaghan watched her last link with the Andromeda take off, she suddenly felt light-headed, and her next sensation was that of her knees meeting the ground, and everything seemed to be fading away.

To Charlemagne's shocked surprise, Elsbeth took over completely, ordering Meaghan to be taken to her room, calling for a doctor and just generally organizing everything.

"Do you think it could be a problem with the baby?" Charlemagne tried to sound nonchalant about it.

Elsbeth arched an eyebrow at him. "Anything's possible, but how often did she leave the ship?"

He shrugged. "Just the once that I know of."

"And now, she's pregnant, separated from all her friends, and on a planet that has nearly a third again the gravity that she's used to." Elsbeth looked at her husband. "I think that the only way to know for sure is to wait and see what the doctor says."

&&&&&&&

Meaghan awoke in a large, soft bed in a large, opulent room. At first she thought was alone, then as she started to sit up, she heard Elsbeth's voice. "Lie still."

Meaghan felt a cold panic grip her. "My baby?"

"Is fine," Charlemagne's wife reassured her. "You're just overstressed and need some time to acclimatize to our higher gravitation here. The doctor said bed rest for today, then slowly increasing your activity."

"But what about..," she began.

"Charlemagne's current secretary will stay a few more days until you are able to assume your duties," Elsbeth interrupted. "You do want to do what is best for your child, don't you?"

"Of course." Meaghan subsided. "And I want to thank you for taking such good care of me, your grace."

"You intrigue me," Elsbeth admitted, coming to stand near the bed so that the other woman didn't have to crane her neck to see her. "Charlemagne told me how you came to be on the Andromeda, and how quickly you made yourself indispensable."

"Hardly indispensable, your grace," Meaghan pointed out, "or I wouldn't be here."

"Elsbeth," the amazon interjected. "Since you're going to be staying here, the constant use of such formalities seems a little unnecessary."

"Staying here?" Meaghan tried to keep the dismay out of her voice. "But I thought..,"

"It was my idea," Elsbeth said bluntly. "As I said, you intrigue me, and I'd like to keep you where I can see you." Then her features softened a little. "Do you feel up to eating anything?"

Meaghan considered the question a moment. "I don't think so at the moment. And whatever your motivations for your kindness, I thank you, Elsbeth." She held out her hand, and after a brief hesitation, the Nietzschean woman took it. Something seemed to pass between them, and the harsh lines on Elsbeth's face softened a little.

"I'll look in on you again before I retire for the evening, Meaghan," the stately brunette said. "Rest now."

&&&&&&&&

Charlemagne was in his office, ostensibly working, but in reality just blankly staring at the information in front of him, when Elsbeth entered. It took a supreme act of will for him not to jump up and immediately demand news on Meaghan's condition.

"It will be a few days before she can assume her duties," his wife informed him without prelude. "The doctor says that she needs time to acclimatize." She waited on the other question, deciding that if he really wanted to know, he was going to have to ask.

"Then it's nothing serious," he said with a calm he did not feel.

"Not according to her physician." Elsbeth shrugged. She added thoughtfully, "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

"I didn't know that you liked girls, my love," Charlemagne teased. He left his chair and sat on the desk, near his wife, pulling her to him. "Maybe I just thought that it was time that there was an attractive female about the place."

Elsbeth made a half-hearted attempt to free herself, but Charlemagne's arms only tightened about her.

Charlemagne began nuzzling her neck. "Surely you're not jealous of a human, are you, my dear?"

"Merely an observation," Elsbeth answered. "But don't you have work to do?"

He released her with a show of reluctance. "Regrettably true."

"Try to be on time to dinner tonight," his wife reminded him as she left.

&&&&&&&

Soon enough, Meaghan was on her feet and handling her new responsibilities with ease, and Elsbeth began to relax as neither she nor Charlemagne by any word, look or gesture suggested that there was anything between them. A rapport grew between the two women, human and Nietzschean, an entirely feminine one that totally excluded Charlemagne. He was beginning to be unsure as to whether he had gained Meaghan, or lost his wife.

&&&&&&&&

Five months later:

A now visibly pregnant Meaghan was having a restless night, and had made her way to the salon that overlooked the gardens. She stood at the window, taking in the lovely sight of the moonlit greenery.

"Meg?" Charlemagne came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

She closed her eyes a moment, just enjoying the nearness of him that had been conspicuously absent these last few months. "Couldn't you sleep either?"

"I heard you pass by our rooms," he confessed. "I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a bit battered."

"Battered?"

"Here." She took his hands and placed them on her swollen abdomen where he could feel the energetic kicking of their son. "Try to sleep while you're being kicked in the ribs."

"Our son," he murmured in awed tones, then became distracted by other considerations. It had been so long since he had been able to hold her, breathe in the scent of her..,

"I've missed this," she whispered. "Being in your arms."

"Anything else?" he inquired teasingly, nudging aside her hair to nibble on an earlobe.

"None of that, your grace," she admonished gently, pulling away from him. "Besides, my hormones aren't geared to that now."

She reached up to kiss his cheek, then left him standing there, alone.


	14. Revelations

Elsbeth barged into Charlemagne's office unannounced.

"Where is Meaghan?" he demanded a bit peevishly. She could have at least told him his wife was on her way.

"She had to step away for a moment," Elsbeth informed him with a grin.

"Again?" Charlemagne was feeling a bit moody and didn't want to understand.

"I'd like to see how you'd react to someone wiggling around on top of your bladder," his wife said calmly enough, but her eyes were starting to show the gleam of battle.

"Was it something important?" he bit off tersely.

"I wanted you to see this." Elsbeth handed him something.

Charlemagne glanced at it dismissively. "A gene chart? Whose?"

"Meaghan's," she answered. "And really look at it this time, Charlemagne."

He did, at first to placate Elsbeth and out of curiosity, but the more he looked.., "This can't be right," he muttered.

"That's the third one," his wife said. "I couldn't believe it either."

"No congenital defects, no reinforced dangerous recessives, it's.., it's..,"

"Perfect," Elsbeth finished for him. "I've seen Nietzscheans whose gene charts weren't as good."

"It's amazing," Charlemagne agreed. "But what may I ask are you doing with it?"

"I've been better informed on Meaghan's pregnancy than she is," Elsbeth stated. "All she ever wants to know is if the baby is healthy. I wanted details."

"Absolutely incredible." He was still studying the chart, futilely searching for some small imperfection.

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" his wife asked him.

"About what, dear?" he muttered absently.

"Whether or not the baby's father was.., worthy of such good genes," Elsbeth said mysteriously, then glided out of the room.

He gave Elsbeth a few minutes to leave, and likewise for Meaghan to return before he paged her into his office.

"You needed something, your grace?" Meaghan asked formally. She did everything formally now, and Charlemagne would have given a great deal just to be able to hear her say his name again.

"Take a look at this, Meg." He was so absorbed in his study that he forgot and used the abbreviated form of her name, something he didn't do anymore, either.

"What is it?" She didn't even sound particularly interested.

"Your gene chart," he informed her. "Can you read one?"

"Of course not, your grace," she said a bit tiredly. "When have I had time to learn?"

He caught the overtones of fatigue in her tone. "Sit down, Meaghan, this may take a little explaining."

She carefully lowered herself into a chair. "I'm listening. But I can't see what's so earth-shaking about a gene chart."

"It proves something I'd only guessed at." Charlemagne smiled warmly at her. "You're perfect, Meg."

"Meaghan, if you please, your grace," she corrected him quietly.

"It does not please me," he snapped. "And you're missing the entire point."

"Someone probably made a mistake taking the readings," she said dismissively. "There is no such thing as a perfect person."

"You are," he stated simply. "Meg, Elsbeth showed me that chart herself, and she had it redone twice. She knows how superior your genes are, she likes you, why don't we tell her?"

"And let her know we've been keeping it from her for months?" Meaghan queried softly. "I don't think Elsbeth will appreciate that. Why can't you just accept that what happened between us can never be again?"

Charlemagne's face was set in stubborn lines. "I can't accept it, and I won't, Meg. Make no mistake, one way or another we will take up where we left off, and finish this dance between us, you and I."

Meaghan closed her eyes for a moment. Then, struggling her way out of the chair, she inquired coolly, "Did you require anything else, your grace?"

He glared at her for a moment, and she glared back, a battle between sapphire blue eyes and emerald green ones. Finally, Charlemagne relented, out of respect for the fact that this woman would soon give birth to his son.

"Just one thing." Since she wanted to be businesslike, so be it. "I have that inspection tour in the outer provinces tomorrow. You're staying here."

"But..," she started to protest.

"That will be all, Meaghan."

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne left early the next day on the inspection tour. By mid-morning Meaghan had done everything she could do insofar as her official capacity went. Rising from her desk with a sigh, she went to seek out Elsbeth, and found her strolling through the garden.

"You look a little disgruntled today," Elsbeth observed. "Still sulking because Charlemagne wouldn't take you with him?"

"I'm not sulking," Meaghan snapped. "Just because.., oh dear." Her tones changed abruptly, and suddenly the hem of her skirt was soaked.

Elsbeth took her arm and started leading her to her rooms. "It looks like this baby is in a hurry, he's two months early."

"Early?" Meaghan muttered to herself. "I thought it was seven months."

&&&&&&&

Once Elsbeth had seen Meaghan to her bed, and called in the physician, she went to make another call.

When Charlemagne saw who it was, he became a bit irritable. "What is it now, Elsbeth?" He had been a bit testy the last two months.

"You need to return home immediately," his wife informed him. Then she added a bit maliciously. "That is if you want to be here for the birth of your son."

"What are you babbling about, Elsbeth?" he snapped. "You're not pregnant, and I haven't..," Then realization dawned, and his jaw dropped open.

"Meaghan is in labor," Elsbeth said, slowly and deliberately. "She needs you." Then she switched off the connection, sure that she had gotten her point across and that her husband would make all speed to get home. Then, she returned to Meaghan.


	15. Husband and Father

Charlemagne sped all the way home in a cold sweat. It was too early, what if something went wrong? What if.., he tried to stifle the thought. Nothing was going to happen to their child. But he was hard put to keep the panic away when he thought of all the horribles. The worst of which was if the baby didn't survive, Meaghan would almost certainly go back to the Andromeda.

When he got home he ran through the palace as if there were a pack of hungry Magog on his heels. When he reached Meaghan's apartment, he stopped in the doorway. The doctor was in place to deliver the infant, and Elsbeth sat beside Meaghan, one hand clasped in both of Meaghan's, and the other blotting the sweat from her brow. As he watched, another contraction seized his paramour. Her back arched, sweat poured off her brow, but she refused to make a sound.

Elsbeth turned to see her husband in the doorway. "It's about time," she remarked calmly. "Come here and hold her hands, Charlemagne, she's nearly broken my fingers as it is."

He obediently followed his wife's orders, unwrapping Meaghan's hands from Elsbeth's, and holding them in his own. Elsbeth flexed her cramped fingers, then looked at her husband with a curious expression. "Have the two of you discussed what you are going to name him?"

"Whatever Meg wants." He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. "As long as they're both all right, I don't care."

"Leander." Meaghan panted in sheer exhaustion. "I always liked.., oh!" She stopped abruptly as another contraction hit, and Charlemagne saw Elsbeth's point about broken fingers. He had no idea that Meaghan was so strong.

"Leander, then," he agreed.

"Leander Bolivar out of Meaghan by Charlemagne," Elsbeth said reflectively. "I've heard worse. Are you going to marry her, husband?"

Charlemagne blinked. How long had Elsbeth known, or at least guessed? And why did she have to wait till now to keep hitting him with surprises? "Elsbeth, with the current political situation..,"

"We're supposed to be forging bonds, not only with other Nietzscheans, but with the humans as well," his wife reminded him. "You yourself told me that all of us will have to stand together when the Magog world-ship arrives, or we'll be lost."

"But marriage..," he sputtered. "Elsbeth, think. We'll lose considerable support from our own people if I marry a human."

"I've already sent copies of her gene chart to quite a few sources," his wife confessed. "I doubt there will be as much of an outcry as you imagine."

Charlemagne opened his mouth to answer, but Meaghan gripped his hands again. The physician murmured, "This should be the one, push hard now."

Meaghan gasped with the effort, and Charlemagne could have sworn he heard the bones in his hand crack. Suddenly, she went limp. Then he heard the first lusty cries of his new son.

Elsbeth left the two of them to see to the baby.

"You did it, Meg," he said softly, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from her face. "Our child, a part of us, our immortality."

Meaghan smiled weakly. "You're pleased, then, Charlemagne?"

He returned the smile. "More than I can possibly say."

Elsbeth returned, carrying the baby. She approached her husband, and he stood as she neared him. "Do you accept this child as of your lineage, and as one of your heirs?"

"I do," he answered solemnly, and took the infant from her, sealing his acknowledgement of a blood bond. He sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Our son, Meg." He turned back the blankets to get a better look at the new life. "He's beautiful."

"He looks like his father, then?" Meaghan quipped tiredly.

"He does indeed," Elsbeth answered her. "But you should rest now, Meaghan."

"I want to hold my baby," Meaghan said, holding out her arms.

"Our baby," Charlemagne corrected her, placing the infant in her arms.

&&&&&&&&

One month later:

Dylan was bored. There had been nothing going on lately that really required the talents and capabilities of the Andromeda's crew.

"Incoming message, captain," the AI said.

"Something interesting, I hope," Hunt muttered. "Let's have it Andromeda."

"The command crew of the Commonwealth ship Andromeda is invited to a Nietschean naming ceremony for..,"

"For who?" Bekka and Harper entered the bridge. "Or is that whom?" added Bekka, "I can never remember."

"For Leander Bolivar out of Meaghan by Charlemagne," the AI finished.

"What?" Harper burst out, and Bekka recalled that he was the only one of the command crew who hadn't been entirely in the loop about Meaghan and Charlemagne. "Not our Meaghan?"

"The message doesn't specify," the hologram stated. "But, all things considered, I'd say that the answer is probably, yes. The baby must have come early."

"Nobody tells me anything," Harper muttered disgustedly.

"When is the ceremony, Andromeda?" asked Dylan.

"Two days from now, sir," the AI answered.

"Since we don't seem to have any more pressing business then," Hunt said, "let's go. Bekka, will you do the honors?"

Bekka stepped up to the navigation console. "My pleasure."

&&&&&&&&

As the senior staff of the Andromeda began disembarking from the Eureka Maru, a fiery-headed figure came running at them full tilt.

Dylan, being in the vanguard, took the full brunt of the force from the copper-topped guided missile, but, being ready for it, he merely caught Meaghan up in a big bear-hug.

"It's good to see you again, Meaghan." He smiled at her, then set her back on her feet so that everyone else could have a chance at her.

Charlemagne sauntered up while Meaghan was being passed from person to person, with hugs and greetings all around.

"Congratulations." Dylan offered his hand.

"Thank you," the Nietzschean said. "But Meaghan is the one that did all the work."

"Where's the baby, Meaghan?" Trance demanded. "When do we get to see him?"

"He was asleep when you arrived," the beaming new mother explained. "I expect that when we get back his majesty will be hungry, then, after he's eaten you can all see him. He's adorable."

"Not that you're proud of him or anything," Bekka teased, draping her arm around Meaghan's shoulders and giving her an affectionate squeeze.

"If you think I'm bad," Meaghan laughed. "The always correct Charlemagne Bolivar turns into a babbling idiot when confronted with his own offspring."

"I heard that," Charlemagne remarked.

"But can you deny it?"

&&&&&&&&&

The naming ceremony was overlong and boring, as such things usually are, but it was followed by an informal party which more than made up for it.

While the guest list had been rather extensive, one small, select group kept mostly to themselves.

"By the by, Charlemagne," Elsbeth said a little too casually, "I'm taking care of Leander tonight. You're staying with Meaghan."

All eyes turned to the Nietzschean woman. "Besides," she added, "I need to get back into practice in dealing with an infant."

Charlemagne's eyes lit up, and Meaghan hugged Elsbeth.

"Geez," said Harper. "How does the guy find time to get anything done?"

&&&&&&&&&&

It was their first night together since the long months ago on the Andromeda. Charlemagne was as eager as he had been the first time, but Meaghan seemed to be dawdling.

"What's keeping you, Meg?" he asked impatiently.

"Just something that Elsbeth told me to do," she said from behind him. He turned to face her with a puzzled look on his face. As he did so, she fastened the ornate bangle Charlemagne's wife had given her on his upper arm and said softly and lovingly, "Husband and father," in the traditional Nietzschean marriage formula.

And it all seemed right as Charlemagne swept his new wife into his embrace and murmured, "I love you, Meg."


	16. Unfortunate Encounter

A couple of weeks later, Meaghan resumed her duties as Charlemagne's secretary, but not after a certain amount of conflict between them. In the end, the main reason he gave in to his wife's demands was that her replacement was his former secretary, and Manfred was already getting on his nerves.

And, for a time, life went fairly smoothly. Charlemagne carried out the duties accorded to his rank, played with his sons, and loved his wives.

When Elsbeth was just starting to show her second pregnancy, discord interrupted the harmony of Charlemagne's life again. And again, the source was not his warrior princess first wife, but his gentle, soft-spoken second wife.

There was to be a far reaching peace conference on the Andronicus space station, and Meaghan was determined to go. Charlemagne was equally determined that she shouldn't.

"Charlemagne, I have to go," Meaghan stated quite firmly one night as they prepared to retire.

"No, you don't, Meg," he replied just as firmly. Only sheer stubbornness was keeping him from giving in just to end the day's old argument. "And you're not going. What you are going to do is be a dutiful wife and stay home looking after our son."

"It will only be a few days," she pointed out. "And Elsbeth already said that she'd be happy to look after Leander."

Charlemagne was beginning to feel outnumbered, but, being Nietzschean, he refused to be outmaneuvered. He decided to switch tactics.

"It's just a boring conference, darling," he murmured in honeyed tones, taking her in his arms. "Just a horde of officials arguing over who is more equal."

"I have to be there," she reiterated stubbornly.

"Why?" he demanded. "Surely you don't think I'm so incompetent that I need your help?"

"Of course not," she answered softly. "There's no way I can make you understand, but I really have to go."

"Unless, you can make me understand, you're not going," her husband replied. "And that is all I intend to hear on the subject, understand?"

He was answered by a sullen silence.

Charlemagne reached a gentle hand under her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to look him in the eye. The mutinous gaze that met his said that his fiery little wife was far from giving in.

"Meg?" Just one word, but uttered in tones that brooked no rebellion.

"You said that you didn't want to hear any more on the subject," Meaghan said a little dispiritedly. "And I find that I have nothing else to say."

And she said nothing else on the subject either. But when he reached for her that night, she was there, as warm and loving as ever.

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne's ship had barely left the atmosphere when Meaghan put in a call to the Andromeda.

"Hello, Meaghan," the AI greeted her. "Did you wish to speak to Dylan?"

"Actually, I'd really rather talk to Bekka," Meaghan answered. "And could we please have some privacy, Andromeda?"

"Secure channel," Andromeda replied. "Connecting you to Bekka.

"

"Hi Meaghan," Bekka said in surprise. "What's with the secure circuit?"

"Bekka, I have a favor to ask you..,"

&&&&&&&&

Less than a day later, the Eureka Maru docked at Andronicus station.

"Do you want me to wait around for you, Meaghan?" Bekka asked. "Or do you intend to make other arrangements for the trip home?"

"I'd appreciate you waiting for me, Bekka," Meaghan answered. "Unless of course, something comes up, in which case I'll notify you."

"You mean if Charlemagne catches you disobeying his orders," the Maru's captain said. "I don't even begin to understand what is going on between the two of you, but I'll do what I can to help."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Charlemagne and me," the red-head insisted. "It has to do with this peace conference. But Charlemagne isn't as ready to take my word for it as you are."

Bekka shrugged. "You're just lucky I was able to get away from the Andromeda. If there had been something major going on, you would have been without a ride."

"I can't thank you enough, either, Bekka," Meaghan said. "I'm just afraid that it's going to be quite a dance to keep Charlemagne from noticing me."

"I think I can help with that," Bekka announced.

&&&&&&&

An hour or so later a lone figure left the Eureka Maru. Instead of loose-flowing tresses, there was a long braid that began nearly at the top of her head. And replacing the long-skirted anachronistic dresses that Meaghan favored for her daily wear, was a black jumpsuit, bloused out at the arms, and nearly skintight elsewhere.

"It won't fool anyone who knows you, outright," Bekka had explained. "But if Charlemagne catches sight of you at a distance, it might be enough to fool him into thinking you're someone else."

Meaghan cautiously entered the level of the station set aside for the conference. It was early in the station's day, and many of the delegates were still abed, either from their nocturnal activities, or from acclimatizing to a different time zone.

As the day wore on, the area became busier and more crowded. Meaghan passed among them, smiling quietly, chatting softly, and generally detracting from the antagonism that unfortunately seemed to hold sway at these things.

As the station's day waned into evening, Meaghan felt in need of a breather. She looked for a quiet corner to gather her resources for the rest of the day's encounter, when she spotted Charlemagne, coming down a corridor right toward her.

Hoping that he hadn't noticed her, she ducked into a side passage with more speed than concentration, and ran headlong right into someone.

"Oh, excuse me, I'm very sorry." She looked up at who she had careened into and felt a little sick. "Your majesty."

A pair of strong hands grasped her arms just above the elbow and lifted her several centimeters above the floor, leaving her feet dangling helplessly in the air, and her arms immobile.

"You shameless little trull," Haedmon grated out menacingly. "Will you never stop bedeviling me?"

"If you would please release me, your majesty," she said in placatory tones. "Then I will be more than happy to get out of your way."

"What are you doing here?" The monarch demanded. "Are you going to try to block our legitimate claims?"

"Believe it or not," Meaghan answered breathlessly. "I didn't even know you were going to be here."

"I do not believe you," Haedmon stated. "And I believe that I owe you a little something for the humiliation that you caused me."

Meaghan was starting to be really afraid. She was in a defenseless position, and there didn't seem to be a soul in sight. And Haedmon was very obviously still unhappy with her and ready to take out his hurt feelings on her.

"You just never will learn, will you, Haedmon?" a familiar voice said from the end of the passage. "I would advise you to put my wife down and step away from her, or I shall have no recourse but to make improvements to the human gene pool by removing you from it."

Meaghan spared a glance for her husband and saw that despite all the precautions that were supposed to insure that there were no weapons at the conference, Charlemagne had managed to smuggle in a blaster.

"Your.., wife?" Haedmon repeated sickly, the blood beginning to drain from his face.

"I don't believe that I stuttered," Charlemagne said coolly. He hadn't even aimed the weapon yet, but Meaghan knew just how fast those Nietzschean reflexes were.

Very carefully, as if she were made of spun glass, Haedmon set Meaghan back on her feet. Then, as if it were his own idea, he turned and went back the way he had come. The only thing that gave him away was the speed of his retreat.

Meaghan still felt a little sick. The departure of the disgruntled monarch now left Charlemagne free to turn all his attentions to her, and she was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be happy.

Charlemagne had already made the blaster disappear. He just stood there looking positively splendid in his formal regalia. Meaghan suddenly ran at him and threw herself into his arms, willing to risk his wrath, just to feel safe in his embrace.


	17. Food for Thought

Charlemagne held his wife's trembling form for long minutes, waiting till the tremors subsided before he finally spoke. "Better now?"

"I suspect not," she murmured, snuggling closer. "Are you very angry with me, beloved?"

"Absolutely furious." His tone belied his words though, as did the kiss he placed on her brow. "I'm very curious about something though. I gave strict orders that no one was to give you transport. Who disobeyed me?"

She grinned a little wickedly. "You're not the only person who knows people with ships."

"With no more reason than you gave me, I doubt that Dylan Hunt would divert the Andromeda," Charlemagne mused aloud. "But I'd be willing to bet that Bekka Valentine would take you anywhere you wanted to go."

"Please don't be upset with Bekka," Meaghan said. "She only did it for me."

"Because she's your friend, I suppose," her husband remarked.

"It's one of the best reasons I can think of for doing something," Meaghan remarked. "That and love."

The Nietzschean sighed over the ways humans did things and changed the subject. "Why are you dressed like that? You look like..," he searched for the right phrase and failed.

"Bekka? That's because this is hers," she informed him. "And as to the why, I'm in disguise."

"Not much of a disguise," he said casually. "I spotted you early this morning."

"But I never came near you," Meaghan protested. "That was the whole idea, to make me look different enough that you wouldn't look any closer."

"Meg, my darling love, I would know you even if you covered yourself with a sack," Charlemagne declared. "The few small changes you made never had a chance of deceiving me."

"Because you see me through the eyes of love?" she suggested.

"That must be why," he agreed, and kissed her.

"Kissing in the corridors again, I see," said a voice from behind them.

"Dylan!" Meaghan released her husband and went to hug the Andromeda's captain.

"I didn't know you were going to be here."

"See why I didn't want to bring her along, Dylan?" Charlemagne remarked conversationally. "She can't keep her hands off of other men."

Dylan laughed and hugged her back. "Men? You mean I'm not the only one?" he asked in mock-sorrowful tones.

"An old admirer of hers," the Nietzschean answered. "You didn't know Haedmon was going to be here either, did you, Meg?"

"No," she said ruefully. "If I had, I would have paid more attention to where I was going."

"But you still would have gone against my wishes and come?" Charlemagne accused.

"I told you, I have to be here," Meaghan stated finally.

"You never heard this, Dylan," Charlemagne said. "But I give up. I don't suppose that this will be the only time?"

"I'm afraid not, love," she replied apologetically. "I have a lot of work to do."

"What kind of work?" Hunt asked, as the three of them strolled down the passage.

"Helping," she responded mysteriously. "And," she added as both men opened their mouths to interject something. "That is all I can tell you because..,"

"We wouldn't understand," Charlemagne interrupted.

"Well, you wouldn't," she said a bit defensively.

"By the way," Dylan broke in, changing the subject. "Now that you've been found out, Meaghan, do you suppose that I can have my first officer back?"

&&&&&&&&&

The conference was over in record time, with the only note of dissension being King Haedmon, whose outrageous demands were voted down unanimously. As Dylan was later to remark, it was the most peaceful peace conference that he had ever attended. Many alliances were formed, with age-old enemies seeming to become the closest of friends. A certain Nietzschean archduke began to have some suspicions about the source of such amity, but having no proof decided to keep his own counsel. But from then on, whenever any such conference convened, he merely informed Meaghan of the event and refrained from trying to prevent her attendance again.


	18. Where She Loves

Charlemagne lay back on the pillows, pleasantly tired and content. He pulled Meaghan into his arms, holding her, enjoying the closeness of her in the warm afterglow.

"Do you recall something you said a couple of months ago?" Meaghan asked softly. "Something about sons being very nice, but that you'd like some daughters as well?"

"Mmm-hmm." He wasn't feeling too talkative at the moment.

"How about two of them?" She propped herself up on one elbow, so she could look down at him.

"What are you talking about, love?" Charlemagne was becoming a little more alert, now. "Even if you are pregnant again, Elsbeth is going to have another boy."

"I am." Meaghan giggled. "Just now. But they're girls."

"You can tell?" The Nietzschean wasn't quite ready to believe it, although some of the things his red-headed wife did were beyond his comprehension.

"It was kind of interesting," she said reflectively. "Feeling the egg divide. At first, I thought something was wrong, until I felt the two of them."

"Whatever you say, Meg." Charlemagne was feeling too lazy to be drawn into an argument.

"You don't believe me?" Meaghan looked crestfallen. "I thought you'd be pleased."

Charlemagne pulled her back down for a kiss. "If it actually is true, of course I'll be pleased, love. But there's no way you can tell."

"I can't?" She was wearing that mysterious look again. "Oh, it's very important, we have to name one of them..,"

"Bekka?" he interrupted. "Do I get any say in naming the other one?" He decided that playing along was easier, and they'd be able to tell, soon enough.

"Whatever you like, love," she whispered, and, snuggling against him was soon asleep.

&&&&&&&

Charlemagne began to wonder when the next day Meaghan had a pregnancy test done and it showed positive. But his Nietzschean practicality stepped in and said that it was a lucky guess and that there was no way that any of the other things she predicted could be anything but wishful thinking.

&&&&&&&&

Five months later:

It was late, but having just gotten back from another conference dealing with planetary defenses against the Magog world-ship, Charlemagne was backed up on his work again. When Meaghan entered his office without paging him first, he was slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"Sorry, love," she apologized. "But Tyr Anastazi is here to speak to you. He says it's important." She stepped aside as the Kodiak entered and then discreetly left again.

Charlemagne rose and he and Tyr exchanged the ritual Nietzschean greeting. Charlemagne was puzzled at the unexpected visit, it was the first ever. He decided to let Anastazi make the first move.

"I'd heard that you married a human," Tyr opened up conversationally. "What possessed you?"

"She has an absolutely perfect gene chart," Charlemagne answered. "And I do mean, perfect."

"Did you know that in advance?" Tyr queried.

"Did you come all the way here to inquire into my love life?" Charlemagne snapped. "Because, if that is the case, I have a lot of other things to do."

A slight scuffle sounded in the outer office, and both men instantly drew weapons and leaped to their feet, with Tyr ducking back into a dark corner.

A young Nietzschean man, blaster in one hand, pointed at Meaghan's head, and the other one over her mouth burst through the door.

"Traitor," the stripling hissed at Charlemagne. "Drop the weapon, Charlemagne, you might be able to kill me, but she'd still be dead." Then, as Charlemagne put his weapon down, he added, "First you marry this, kluge, then add to the folly by diluting your genes. You are a disgrace to your own people."

"Her genes are probably better than yours," Charlemagne said calmly enough, but it was a forced calm, only because he knew that he had to keep a clear head if he was to save Meaghan. "In fact, in light of your current behavior, I'd say it was a certainty."

"You think just because you have a title you can do whatever you want." The young bravo ignored the jab. "But I'm guessing that you also fancy yourself in love with her. How much good will that do you after you watch me cut your half-breed bastard out of her belly?"

Tyr stood watching wondering at the idiocy of the boy to not have noticed that there was someone else in the room. He could shoot him himself, but at the angle he was, not without the possibility of hitting the very pregnant red-head, an action he was sure would not sit well with Charlemagne. And for some reason, cold reasoning wasn't operating too well here, he wondered why, but decided to table that thought for a more opportune moment.

The young man suddenly let out a yelp of pain and dropped his weapon, and Meaghan dropped to the floor. Charlemagne retrieved his weapon, and he and Tyr fired almost simultaneously, nearly cutting him in half. Charlemagne rushed around the desk to his wife.

Meaghan spat on the floor, the most unladylike gesture he'd seen her make, but her mouth seemed to be full of her late attackers blood. "The children and Elsbeth, Charlemagne," she whispered. "Check on them, there may be others."

Realizing that she might be right, he dashed out of the room, shouting orders to the security staff on his wrist-com.

Meaghan was still on hands and knees on the floor, when a large, not unfriendly hand reached down and helped her to her feet.

Meaghan was a sight, ashen-pale and covered with blood. An awful lot of blood, Tyr thought, glancing down at the floor. Then he saw a chunk of flesh laying there where Meaghan had been. Evidently she had bitten the boy hard enough to take a largish chunk out of him. Despite himself, Tyr was impressed. But right now, Charlemagne's second wife seemed to be in shock. He seated her, then just squatted down in front of her, studying her curiously for a minute. Such a delicate little thing, who would have thought she had it in her?

"He threatened my babies," Meaghan whispered, as if she had read his thoughts.

Tyr was a bit startled. He had become used to such things from Trance, when he had still been on the Andromeda, but Trance was so.., alien, and this woman was a human.

When Charlemagne returned, he saw the Kodiak pressing a drink on Meaghan.

"But I'm..," Meaghan started to protest.

"It's not enough to damage your children," Tyr assured her. "Drink it. Or do you enjoy the taste of blood?"

Meaghan obediently sipped the drink, delicately, making a face at the taste. Then they both turned to look at Charlemagne.

"Everyone is all right," he said immediately, for Meaghan's benefit. "Apparently our young visitor was acting alone. And," he added. "Tomorrow, security will be seeing some heads roll over their incompetence at allowing him in at all, let alone armed. Are you all right, Meg?"

Before he could reach his wife, Tyr pulled him aside and whispered something in his ear and discreetly indicated the small piece of mangled flesh that Meaghan had bitten out of her captor.

"Now do you see why?" Charlemagne asked quietly.

"I think I do," Tyr replied. "And believe it or not, it was the reason for my coming here. I may even be able to bring myself to believe that part about the perfect genes."

"Believe it," Charlemagne said, going over to Meaghan and pulling her into his arms, where she nearly collapsed. "She's not an ordinary human."

"That I am willing to believe," Tyr answered. "She'll fight tooth and nail to protect anyone she loves, won't she? A Nietzschean woman could not have done better."

"Possibly not even as well," Charlemagne agreed. "But as able as she is during a crisis, she very much dislikes harming others. If you could excuse us, she needs me."

Tyr nodded and left.


	19. Losses and Decisions

In due course, or within seven months, again, Meaghan gave birth, as she predicted to identical twin daughters. Charlemagne was delighted with two miniature versions of their mother, and spoiled them even more outrageously than he did his sons. However, as the Magog world-ship came ever closer, he had less and less time to spend with his family as he was needed in planning defenses. Increasingly, he was away from home, sometimes for weeks at a time. Meaghan tried not to mope and spent a great deal of time with the children. Elsbeth plotted mischief of a Nietzschean sort.

"You cannot go on that raiding party against the Dragons, Elsbeth," Meaghan said for the umpteenth time. "Charlemagne wouldn't like it."

"Since Charlemagne isn't here," the Nietzschean woman pointed out. "He can neither state his likes nor his dislikes."

"It's utter insanity," Meaghan persisted.

"It will be fun," Elsbeth declared, grinning at the way Meaghan rolled her eyes at her. "Besides, there are quite a few of us who owe the Dragons. The time for payment has come."

"Divisive action right now is sheer folly." Meaghan kept trying. "All the people, no matter what race need to stand together or we will fall to the Magog."

"We won't be starting a war, Meaghan," Elsbeth said lightly. "Just reclaiming something that was always ours and that the Dragons have no right to."

"And that's not the way Nietzscheans start wars?" Meaghan inquired wearily. "Please, Elsbeth, don't go. I.., I.., just have a very bad feeling about this."

"Don't worry," Elsbeth tried to reassure her. "I'll probably be back before Charlemagne is."

As Elsbeth walked out the door, Meaghan murmured, "I'm sorry, Elsbeth," and closed her eyes.

&&&&&&&&

Charlemagne arrived home a few days later, and, after receiving exuberant greetings from the older of the children and his second wife, it occurred to him that someone was missing.

"Where's Elsbeth?" he asked Meaghan as they left the nursery.

"She went on a raiding party against the Dragons." Meaghan hung her head, as if she were somehow responsible.

"She what?" Charlemagne exploded. "What possessed her? Why didn't you stop her, Meaghan?"

"I tried," she answered. "I talked and talked till I was blue in the face, but I couldn't make her listen to me. Charlemagne, if everything went as planned, she should have been back by now."

One of the security staff came up to Charlemagne and handed him a message, then stood, waiting impassively. Charlemagne read the message, then threw it as far from him as he could.

"Elsbeth?" Meaghan asked softly.

"Her raiding party never made it to Dragon territory," he said dully. "They've just now discovered debris from the ship, but have yet to determine how it was destroyed. It must have been the Dragons, though, word of the raid must have leaked out." He turned to the security guard. "Alert the entire staff and be ready to assemble a strike force." As the man turned to obey the order, Meaghan broke in.

"No! You can't!" Her vehemence brought both men to a standstill. "Don't you understand, love? This is a trap, set to entice you into doing exactly what you are doing. The Magog may be the creatures of the Spirit of the Abyss, but they are not his only agents. Do you think he would hesitate to send one of them to stir up precisely this kind of trouble? I wouldn't be surprised if the information that sent Elsbeth on that raid was planted by one of his people."

"But, Elsbeth..," her husband choked out, surprising himself at the depth of his feeling for her.

"Is gone," Meaghan said gently, standing near him, stroking his cheek. "And it hurts, and we will mourn. But if you start a blood-feud now, we will be so weakened that the Magog will win."

"Sir?" The guard was still waiting for confirmation of Charlemagne's original order.

"Back to your normal post," Charlemagne forced out. Then, once he had passed out of sight, he pulled Meaghan into his arms, holding her so close that he nearly crushed her, just holding her and letting her very presence help dull the grief and begin the healing.

&&&&&&&&

A few months later, Charlemagne readied to leave with the united fleet to meet the Magog. And, once more, when he most wanted a little peace in his own home, what he got was rebellion and discord.

"You're not going, Meaghan," he uttered with finality. "And you're not going to be able to get around me this time, either. I spoke to Captain Hunt, and there will be no Bekka Valentine to whisk you away from where you belong."

"Where you are going is where I belong," she insisted. "I wouldn't ask otherwise, I'm not..," She bit off her words before speaking Elsbeth's name. "Do you think I like the idea of going into a war zone?"

"It's just as well that you don't like the idea," her husband said. "Because, and I do not intend to repeat myself again, you are not going, Meg." He paused briefly, then added. "The children need you, my darling. They've already lost one mother."

"And if I don't go, a lot of other children will lose theirs," she intoned wearily. "Not that they'll be in any position to notice, since they'll be dead too."

"Dammit, Meg!" Charlemagne exploded, then he grabbed his things and headed for the door. "I'll sleep in the ship tonight instead of waiting till the morning."

"Charlemagne, wait, please." His wife ran after him with tears streaming down her cheeks. "You can't leave like this, not when we don't know if, I mean when we'll see each other again."

He paused, but did not turn around to face her. "If I stay, it is on the understanding that the subject is dropped. Is it?"

"Whatever you say, my love." She sounded so completely heart-broken that Charlemagne immediately dropped everything to sweep her up into his arms. "I couldn't bear to have you leave angry with me," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"I didn't want to," he confessed. "But, Meg, my love, you infuriate me sometimes. And sometimes I think that's why I get so angry with you because I love you so much."

And then, Charlemagne took his wife to bed and made love to her, and kissed her good-bye the next morning when he left.

&&&&&&&&

Meaghan watched him leave, spent some time with the children, then went to a quiet, secluded spot and closed her eyes and concentrated.


	20. Upon Such Sacrifices

A week later Trance arrived in the Maru.

"What took you so long?" Meaghan demanded.

"I got here as quick as I could," Trance apologized. "But it wasn't easy to get away."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," Meaghan said. "I've just been so worried and I want this to be all over with."

"It will be soon." The alien woman slid into the pilot's chair. "Strap down, Meaghan, it could get bumpy. And there have been swarm ships popping up all over."

"Of all the things I despise the Spirit of the Abyss for," Meaghan said. "At the top of the list is what he has done to his own creatures. He's made them little more than animals when they could be so much more."

"Remind me when this is over to introduce you to Rev Bem," Trance suggested. "Entering slip-stream."

&&&&&&&&

Long before they reached the fleet they saw thousands of swarm ships, and much evidence of destruction by the Magog. Strangely enough, the Eureka Maru passed by all of them without attracting the attention of any of them. Neither woman spoke much, yet they seemed to communicate a great deal.

&&&&&&&

The Andromeda had been designated the fleet's flagship. Aside from her normal crew, there were a few additions. Charlemagne Bolivar was there liaising for the Sabra-Jaguar, and several other minor prides. Then there was the commander of the entire operation, an Admiral Belisarius, who had earned the position by his sheer tactical brilliance. At the moment, things were relatively quiet, with only minor attacks from the swarm ships.

"Ship approaching," Andromeda said. "Requesting permission to dock. It's the Maru."

Just hearing that gave Charlemagne a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Wait till I get my hands on Trance," Bekka muttered. "What was she up to, taking my ship in the middle of this?"

Belisarius cleared his throat and spoke quietly to Dylan.

Dylan, looking a little uncomfortable, said, "Andromeda, please have Trance and any passengers that she may have, escorted to the bridge under guard."

"Yes sir," the AI acknowledged. "There was only one passenger. Meaghan Bolivar."

Charlemagne buried his face in his hands momentarily, not knowing whether to laugh, swear or cry.

&&&&&&

Immediately as the two women arrived on the bridge, Belisarius, looked over at them. Or more specifically, at Meaghan, and remarked, "It's about time. What took you so long?"

"I was unavoidably detained," she rejoined smoothly, not even sparing a glance for her husband. "Shall we have this over and done with?"

"I hope you know that destroying an enemy out of hand before even really engaging them in battle goes very much against my nature," the admiral complained.

"And you know very well that there are always plenty of battles somewhere," Meaghan replied with a touch of asperity.

"Very well then, sister." Belisarius held out his hand. "Let us proceed."

While Charlemagne, and pretty much everyone else watched, jaws agape, the pair walked to the front of the ship.., and through it. Then they appeared on the screen moving farther away, towards the world-ship, but growing larger and larger, till they dwarfed the world-ship itself.

A few swarm ships buzzed around the titanic figures. Belisarius swatted at them like the insects they resembled, but Meaghan merely looked at them and they stopped dead in space. Then Meaghan and Belisarius stood to either side of the world-ship and raised their hands over it. Energy began to visibly drain from the artificial sun in the middle, pouring into the two figures, faster and ever faster. Suddenly, the sun and the worlds around it imploded, and the shock-wave threw the two of them out of sight of the screen.

A voice sounded on the floor just behind Charlemagne. "That was mildly nasty. Please give me a hand up, dear."

The Nietzschean turned and automatically helped his wife to her feet, but instead of doing or saying anything else, he merely stood and stared at her, suddenly unsure what to make of the woman who had borne him three children.

Meaghan's face took on a expression of extreme sadness. "Am I such a freak now, my love? I'm still me, I haven't really changed, just let out a few secrets is all."

"Are you still here?" Belisarius suddenly appeared a few feet away. "We have accomplished what we came here to do. It's time to leave now, sister."

"There are a few loose ends that have to be tidied up," she said shortly. "And I would like to have a chance to say my good-byes. These people are my friends." She looked at Charlemagne lovingly and added, "And more."

Belisarius gave a long-suffering sigh. "You know the rules, my dear. And father is going to be angry enough with you as it is."

"Getting protective of me in your dotage?" she snapped. "I'll do what I feel I must first." She turned to Dylan. "The Spirit of the Abyss really is a god, you know. While we delivered him a crippling blow today, he will return. Being immortal, a few millennia here or there doesn't really affect his plans. You must make sure that people know about him, what he is, and the danger he poses, so that when he returns, they are prepared."

"I'll do my best, Meaghan," Hunt vowed.

"Your best has always been something to rely on," she replied warmly. "Good-bye, Dylan, I shall miss you all."

The ersatz admiral started to make grumbling noises, and without looking, Meaghan snapped, "Ares!" and he subsided momentarily.

"Wasn't Ares the ancient Greek god of war?" Dylan asked Rommie quietly.

"Yes, and Meaghan is his sister," the android remarked thoughtfully. "I think I know which one, too."

Meaghan went from person to person, exchanging hugs, kisses and a few tears, saying her final farewells. At last she ended up back with Charlemagne.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly. "Didn't you trust me, Meg?"

"Would you have believed me if I had told you I was a god?" she asked gently. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone anything, and believe me, I will most probably pay for it soon."

"Is that how you really look?" he asked. "Somehow, I imagined that a god, if there were such a thing, would look more.., regal."

Meaghan turned, and when she stopped she was an Amazonian blonde, again, and a buxom brunette. She twirled around a few more times before the Nietzschean cried out in an agonized voice, "Stop, Meg!"

As her last turn ended, she appeared as she always had done. Then the sorrow came back into her face. "My dearest love, I have something else to tell you. It may even make the parting easier, because I fear that once you know, you will hate me."

"Never," Charlemagne declared, taking her hands in his. "Nothing could ever make me hate you, Meg, nothing."

"Not even knowing that I was the one who killed Elsbeth?" she asked, avoiding looking him in the eye.

"You.., killed Elsbeth?" He was puzzled. "I thought you cared about her, why?"

"It finally was the only way I could stop her from starting an ill-timed war." Meaghan was still looking at the floor. "And I have loathed myself ever since."

"I don't hate you," Charlemagne stated softly. "You did what you had to do."

Belisarius, or rather, Ares, grumbled again. "We have to leave now, Aphrodite."

"You wouldn't deny me one last kiss, would you?" the goddess of love asked wistfully. "Just one kiss?"

"Well, then, kiss him already," the god growled. "Father is already going to be hurling thunder-bolts at us when we get back."

"You will kiss me good-bye, won't you, beloved?" She turned back to Charlemagne.

"I don't want you to go, Meg," he whispered brokenly. "I need you, our children need you."

"I don't want to go either." She wrapped her arms around him. "But even gods have rules they must obey. Please kiss me."

The bridge became very, very quiet as Charlemagne's lips came down on hers. Some few even remembered themselves enough to think about looking away, to give the couple some privacy, but somehow they never quite managed it. The rest simply watched what was the most passionate kiss they had ever seen.

Then, something odd happened. The kissing couple began to glow, dimly at first, then brighter and brighter. The light was iridescent, incandescent, quite simply indescribable.

Even Ares seemed impressed. "Look closely, mortals. For what you now behold is a rare sight even for a god. The light of love."

The kiss finally subsided, and Meaghan and Charlemagne stood, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes.

"Aphrodite," Ares began, but Charlemagne interrupted him.

"Can't you just leave her alone?" he snapped without turning to face his brother-in-law.

"Do not anger me, mortal," the war-god began in menacing tones, then stopped as the Nietzschean turned to face him. While Charlemagne's voice had been steady enough, tears were flowing freely down his cheeks.

"She has to leave now," Ares stated much more gently. "I'm sorry, she cannot stay." He held out his hand to Meaghan again. "Sister?"

Meaghan walked slowly towards him, but her eyes kept gazing back at Charlemagne's tear-stained face. She was crying too. Then, the gods touched hands, walked two paces away, and disappeared.

For long moments there was complete and utter silence on the bridge. Then, back straight and unbowed, but tears still flowing unchecked, Charlemagne walked off the bridge.


	21. Our Revels Are Ended

Two months later:

"Sensors registering an anomalous object at .5 parsecs off the port bow," Andromeda reported.

"Probably just another stray swarm ship that hasn't been mopped up yet," Bekka observed.

"Negative," the AI answered. "It's too small for a swarm ship. In fact," she added as they closed in far enough to get a better reading. "It's a stasis pod."

"Gee, I wonder which god we got this time," Harper remarked. Bekka gave him a dirty look.

"Send out drones to retrieve it, Andromeda," the captain ordered. "We all know the drill by now."

&&&&&&&&

With an eerie sense of déjà vu, they all congregated in the docking bay as the pod was brought on board. Everyone was hovering around expectantly, except for Trance, who seemed amazingly calm.

"Well, at least this one's in better shape," Harper said, pushing a button. "She ought to pop right open."

It did, and as it did so, a fiery red head popped up and a familiar voice said, "Hello, Seamus, help me out of here, won't you?"

A stunned Harper grabbed her around the waist and surprised even himself by lifting Meaghan completely clear of the pod. All was chaos for a while as everyone gathered around to greet the prodigal.

When the tumult subsided a bit, Meaghan turned to Dylan. "Dylan, may I presume upon our friendship to ask a favor?"

"It wouldn't have anything to do with transport back to your husband, would it?" The entire group began to leave the docking bay en masse.

"It's been a few eons," she said. "I've missed him terribly."

"Aren't you exaggerating just a bit?" Bekka suggested. "I'd hardly call two months eons."

"Neither would I, Bekka." Meaghan slid her arm around her friend's waist. "But for me, it really has been eons. All spent arguing with father about coming back, I might add."

Harper looked puzzled. "Then how did you..?"

"Ha, ha," Meaghan said coyly. "Really, Seamus, it isn't that difficult. Time runs differently there."

"May I ask a question?" Rommie broke in.

"Certainly." Meaghan smiled at her. "You needn't ask, you're family, just like everyone else here."

"I've been doing a bit of research of late," the avatar said. "Greek mythology to be precise. And in all of it, I've never run across any mention of any gods doing anything so selfless for mankind as you and Ares did. So, why?"

"It's been quite a few millennia, Rommie," Meaghan explained. "We were all so young then. But some of us have matured a bit." She grinned impishly. "After a few millennia, even Mr. Harper might mature a bit."

Everyone had a little chuckle at that, even Harper managed a half-grin.

"Besides," Meaghan added on a more serious note. "In a very real way, we are the parents of mankind, even though we have nearly ceased to be remembered by them. We felt a certain responsibility."

"Speaking of responsibilities." The AI appeared. "Do you wish to contact Charlemagne before we arrive?"

Meaghan considered a long moment. "I think not. I want to surprise him."

"I'm sure it will do that," Dylan muttered. "But are you sure it's wise?"

"Probably not." Meaghan grinned at him. "But then, wisdom was never one of my attributes."

"So, how did you persuade your father to let you come back?" Bekka asked. They had by this time proceeded to the captain's office where they could be private.

"Well, I cried, I begged, I pleaded on bended knee," Meaghan said. "In the end, I had to threaten to start a war between the gods. Which probably would have been messy. Not that that would deter father."

"Then what did?" Trance asked quietly.

"Well, lightning and thunder-bolts are very impressive," Meaghan explained. "But when you get right down to it, their power is limited. But love," she added, getting a little dreamy eyed. "Just keeps right on growing. There was a possibility that I might win. I think that was what finally made father back down."

There was a brief silence, then Rommie broke it, saying, "There is a possibility that you are now more powerful than the father of the gods?"

"Was," Meaghan amended. "I'm not a god anymore."

&&&&&&&&

Charlemagne sat in his office. It was late, all the staff had gone, and the children were tucked into bed sound asleep. When he wasn't mechanically attending to his duties, or lavishing his attentions on his children, he was spending a lot of time in his office. He had spent more time with Meaghan here than just about anywhere else. He had his back to the door, something he normally wouldn't have done, and sat there staring at the glass of brandy in his hands. He took a small sip, then a larger one. He even considered drinking himself into temporary oblivion, but it wasn't a serious consideration. It wouldn't blot out the pain that long. What he really needed was a drink from that river, what was it? Lethe, the one that would totally erase one's memories. Except he didn't really want to forget Meaghan. He wanted her back. In a fit of frustration, he flung the glass against the far wall where it shattered into a thousand pieces. Perhaps it was that sound that masked the opening and closing of the door and the soft footsteps behind him.

"Those tiny little bits of glass are so difficult to clean up, love," a soft voice said from behind him, as a delicate hand came to rest on his shoulder.

For a moment, Charlemagne thought he was hallucinating, but the hand on his shoulder seemed real enough. To make sure, he took hold of it, and kissed it. Then he spun his chair around suddenly. "Meg!" An abrupt tug on the hand brought her tumbling into his lap.

Meaghan curled into his lap like a spoiled house-cat. "I've missed you, love," she murmured, and kissed him. The kiss lasted a while.

"Funny," Charlemagne remarked when they finally broke apart. "I would have thought it would feel different, knowing that I'm kissing a god."

"You're not," she said, a soft, white hand reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Well, not right at this moment," he agreed teasingly.

"Not ever again," she informed him softly. "I'm not a god, nor am I immortal. I'm just your wife. I hope you aren't disappointed."

"Never," Charlemagne vowed, kissing her fiercely to prove his point. "But how can you stop being a god?"

"It was part of the bargain I made with father to allow me to be with you," she stated softly.

"You gave up immortality, for me?" Charlemagne was stunned. He may have had a generous opinion of his worth, but that she would do this..,

"In all the long millennia," she explained, "I have never been as happy as I've been with you. And I knew in my heart that if I waited until the end of time, I could never be as happy with anyone else. So instead, I get to be mortal and live out my days with you. I considered it to be an equitable trade."

Since Charlemagne couldn't think of a reply to that, he kissed her again.

"What did you tell the children?" she asked.

"I couldn't face the truth myself," he confessed. "So I just told them that you wouldn't be back for a while longer. They've missed you."

Meaghan smiled warmly. "I've missed them, too. Perhaps I should go and see them."

She started to rise, but Charlemagne pulled her back into his lap.

"Plenty of time for that in the morning," he murmured in her ear. "I missed you, too, Meg." He kissed her again as he started unfastening the front of her dress.

&&&&&&&&

Epilogue

Zeus waved his hand, and the viewing portal closed on the scene of Charlemagne and Meaghan embracing.

"Do you think he believes it?" Ares asked.

"Why shouldn't he?" his father replied. "She does."

"What I don't understand," the war god went on, "is how over the ages whenever some god or goddess took a fancy to a mortal and asked you to bestow immortality on them, you always turned it against them. Yet you gave Aphrodite exactly what they wanted. And she didn't even ask for it. Why?"

Zeus looked at his son for a moment. "Maybe I'm getting a little sentimental in my old age," he said. "Or maybe it was because she didn't ask. She didn't once think of taking such a risk with him, and so instead she offered to give up everything for him. Despite what my wayward daughter thinks, I can't really make anyone not be a god anymore. So, instead, I gave her what her heart truly desired. An eternity with the man she loves."

Ares took a moment to let it sink in, then asked, "When are you going to tell them?"

Zeus shrugged. "I'm not," he answered. "I'm sure that sometime down through the years it may even occur to them to notice that neither one of them is aging." Then another thought occurred to him. "You did say that they shone with the light of love?"

"They did," Ares admitted. "I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised. Who should be more likely to love truly than the goddess of love herself?"

"All these long ages." Zeus shook his head. "And you haven't even learned that the light of love never shows unless both of them truly love? But then again," he added, "who should be easier to love than the goddess of love?"

Ares gave an abrupt snort of laughter. "You are getting sentimental in your old age, father."

"Maybe someday you will too."

"Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love." William Shakespeare Hamlet Act II Scene 2


End file.
